Small Lies
by Lilith Rei
Summary: Eleanor Campbell is spending time London when an incident throws her into a conflict with an underground faction bent on overthrowing the English crown, as well as pulling the same man back into her life that she thought she had forgotten: Ernest Reeve
1. Chapter 1

_Victorian Romance Emma has always been one of my personal favorites. I was always trying to think of a fic to write for it and I finally came up with this idea that was also inspired by one of my favorite books by Josie Litton. I love reading her books and I'm addicted to all of them. _

_So here it is. I hope you enjoy it._

_Disclaimer: I do not own Victorian Romance Emma_

* * *

Ernest stumbled through the forest, his hand locking on the end of his pistol and setting it ready. 

The bastard had double-crossed him and now meant to kill him. Whatever going to happen in the next thirty seconds would determine the lives of both the man, and the man chasing him.

_I'm not going to go down this way._

Turning around, he fired and hit the man square in the shoulder, only to have his feet swept out from under him. Wrestling with the other man for a few more seconds, Ernest caught the glimmer of a knife held in his opponent's hand.

"Damn-"

He shoved the man aside with the last of his energy only to watch as the large man fell on his own knife, who made a few odd noises that Ernest was sure he would never forget for the rest of his life. Sure, the man was an evil traitor that would be hung anyway if ever caught by the authorities, but falling on one's own knife was not his opinion of a graceful way to go.

Before the man's last breath, Ernest rolled him over and grabbed his collar.

"Tell me what I want to know!"

"Or...what?" the big man coughed, "...yer gonna kill me?..."

With that, Ernest sighed irritably as the man passed on. Standing up straight, he flinched at the pain from his ribs. He had caught a few blows that would stay with him for a while. Wrapping an arm gently around his waist he trudged up the hill towards the main road, saying a swift prayer for his fallen enemy.

It would not be long until the dead man was found, and in that time, Ernest was going to make himself scarce. With the carriage already waiting at the top of the hill, he pulled open the door and heaved himself inside. Tapping on the roof, the horses and driver set a course back towards the Reeve's estate.

* * *

"Shite." Ernest flinched as he pulled off his suit coat. 

He had to send a telegram to Minister Hale right away and inform him about what transpired. Most likely Ernest's superior would be entirely outraged by the faulty exchange. Information privy to the safety of the royal family was at stake, and now that the underground rebel faction was starting to move faster than expected, Ernest had a feeling that he would be called to the palace soon to see to his duties personally instead of carrying on in the shadows.

Brushing off his clothes, he drew a piece of paper from his coat and a pen. Scribbling a quick bit of information to the Minister, he folded it as the carriage came to a halt outside his home.

"You alright, sir?" the old man at the reigns asked, "Lookin' a bit pale."

"I'll be fine." Ernest lowered himself out. He was certain that at least one of those ribs were broken, "Please, pass this to Minister Hale for me."

"Sure thing."

"Thank you, Thorngood." Ernest replied, "Tell him that he owes me a drink."

"He owes you more than that, son." Thorngood smiled sympathetically. He was Ernest's direct contact to Hale, and over the years since taking on the assignment, Ernest had grown to be good friends with the elder man.

"I didn't go into this for thanks." Ernest replied, "But you're confidence in me is appreciated."

Thorngood chuckled and shook his head, and headed towards London.

Ernest entered the main house, and handed his dirty coat to his head butler. Howl had been with him since he was a boy, and they had grown up together. Out of everyone in the house, Howl was the only one that knew of Ernest and his 'assignments'.

"Forgive me for saying, sir, but you look like death warmed over."

Ernest also enjoyed Howl's straight-forward humor.

"I might have broken a rib." Ernest cranked the door to his room open before Howl could see to the task.

"I'll have the servants run the bath." he replied, "Lady Wisteria is not home at the moment."

"Thank God, at least something is going in my favor tonight." Ernest peeled off the dress shirt that was smeared with blood that belonged to himself and his attacker, "See that this is burned."

"Yes, sir." Howl made a face as he picked up the discarded white shirt on the floor. Seeing the dark spots beginning to form on his master's back and mid-drift, his frown turned into a scowl, "Do you require a surgeon?"

"A bath, rest, and brandy will just fine." Ernest smiled uneasily, "Actually...make it a whiskey."

"Right away."

With Howl gone, Ernest eased himself on the bed and thanked the heavens again that his grandmother was not home. Although he had long since managed in the Reeve Estate on his own since the death of his parents, his grandmother had always provided much needed support. Lady Wisteria Reeve was as glad to have him around as he was to have her there. 

Which made it even more important that she not see the injuries on his person.

After the long bath, in which Ernest sat in until the water was room temperature, he made a few quick notes in his report at the desk in the study. The note would reach Minister Hale faster than the whole report, which would be sent on the next mail.

Finally taking the opportunity to down the shot of whiskey in one gulp, Ernest flopped onto the four poster bed and sighed. He was not in too much pain now, but he would be in the morning.

The only thing he could do for now was lay in wait for the Minister's next orders. If it required Ernest to travel to London, it would be easy to do so under the guise of the fall social at the palace. He had been invited the previous month, and now it gave him excuse to visit London. Ernest did not always enjoy the pomp and circumstance of high-class functions, but breaking such an invitation would look poorly on his own reputation.

If they could not find the leader of the faction soon and put him behind bars, most likely there would be a lot more problems in England other than a broken social invite.

His ribs throbbed.

"Bloody hell."

* * *


	2. Chapter 2

_I finally posted a chapter. :D It's been a long time. Don't worry, I haven't forgotten about this story!_

_Warning: There are a few spoilers if you haven't finished the entire Emma series yet. Just to warn there are any editing errors, I apologize. Editing is not my best thing, but I am getting better. ::That's what is important, right::_

_Disclaimer: I do not own Victorian Romance Emma_

* * *

"...I think the decorations in Lady Roth's new study are positively atrocious! I was there just the last week and I couldn't believe the amount of dark shades and patterns that she placed together. I was beginning to think that I was attending a funeral rather than her engagement party..."

Mary Sue continued to prattle on about the interior designing of Lady Hannah Roth's estate as Eleanor found her attention fading. When she was younger she liked the rumors and the gossip, but now it was simply tiring and irritating.

"...what do you think, Eleanor?"

"Pardon?" the blond looked at her friend. Mary Sue gave her an exasperated look in return.

"Honestly, Eleanor, you always look so distracted these days."

It was true, there was much on Eleanor Campbell's mind. Some of the thoughts had to do with the irony of her situation. Where she once thought she was the daughter of loving parents in a tight-nit family, she found herself very nearly disowned and traveling alone except for her maid in London. Since the rest of her family was obligated to other invitations, they had sent her alone to London to attend the fall social. Although she felt saddened over the fact that her parents in truth no longer cared about what she did, Eleanor was still intrigued over the sense of irony.

"I am simply tired. It has been a long day."

"Poor Eleanor." Susan patted her hand with a look of genuine sympathy. Susan and Mary Sue were both Eleanor's age, and they had been friends since a very early age.

Hence, the second example of irony.

Mary Sue had already been married for three years and she had two children. Susan had one child and had been married for two years.

In her twenty-second year, Eleanor could have been married for six years and had...well, however many children she would have had. When she was once the youngest girl to be engaged out of her group of friends, and possibly the county, now she was twenty-two years old and unmarried.

Without prospects.

Of _course_ there were prospects. Her father was in the middle of wanting to arrange a marriage between her and one of sons of the Duke of Brighton. It would be a very advantageous marriage for both families.

But not for Eleanor. She did not want to get married for political or social gain. She wanted to meet a man, fall in love with him, and have him be in love with her. Was that too much to ask?

It was later in the evening when she returned to the Inn, she lay awake in bed thinking about where she was heading. If someone asked her what her future plans were, she simply replied to get married and settled down. But how would she get to that point, and which of those paths would make her happiest in the end?

There was a letter from her sister. Monica was always very dedicated in writing to her, for which Eleanor was very grateful for. Her parents barely spoke to her since the broken engagement with William Jones, and the fact that she so easily relented to Mr. Jones breaking the arrangement. At the beginning she had resented Jones for disgracing her reputation and breaking her heart, but after much thought she did not hold a grudge against William.

As much as Eleanor wanted to marry him back then, she would have never been happy if he had never been happy. She eventually concluded that she was no longer in love with him, and wanted to find a man who would chase her instead of the other way around. Her father would have told her she was silly and foolish for believing that she could marry whoever she wished, but it did not matter much to her what his opinion was.

Her father was no longer someone she looked up to.

He had always been stern and harsh, but in the last few years there was something about him that scared her. Like he was planning something in the back of his mind that was truly horrid.

Yes, she was no longer in love with Will. That was something she was sure of.

Eleanor slept lightly that night, thinking about the fall social. The dress that had been made for her was velvet and absolutely elegant. Matching the same green as her eyes, there was also a thin layer of lace that lay over the dress. It was low cut in the front, and laced down to her waist by white laces. Monica had sent it to her once she heard that the Queen had invited the Campbell's to the social and Eleanor would be going alone.

Part of it was further punishment from her father, that was obvious. Since Eleanor had refused to be comply with everything he ordered her to do, he took every opportunity possible to remove her from the house and the family. Spending only a few months out of the year at home, she stayed at Monica's or the family's summer home the remainder of the year.

She could not wait to get married and get out of the prison of her family.

* * *

Ernest sat in the coach as he head towards the palace. He had been instructed, in a very brisk letter, that Minister Hale requested his presence before the fall social as soon as possible. There had barely been enough time to unpack the formal dress clothes before Ernest was back on the road for the palace.

Stopping at the palace, the guards let him in. It was the third time Ernest had been in the royal estate, and he was beginning to think he liked his own home better. The Reeve home was comfortable, large enough to accommodate a large amount of guests, and did not feel like a maze.

The butler opened the door, "Lord Wisteria is here, sir."

Minister Thomas Hale was sixty-three years old with a thin build and a quick wit. He was well known in parliament and was an occasional adviser to the Queen. Ernest knew that Hale had been a personal friend of his father's, and Hale was more then happy to help Ernest out in any situation. It was this trust that made Ernest consent to help Hale find a way to trap the underground.

Hale waved for the door to close, "Sit, Ernest, and tell me what happened."

"I met at the specified time, and followed the instructions exactly." Ernest replied, "They meant to kill me no matter what. Without quick thinking I would have more then two broken ribs now."

The minister winced, "I will try to set up a new meeting next week."

"Have they sent word?"

"None, but watch your back. I would not be surprised if someone was watching you."

"Perfect." Ernest sighed, feeling the sharp pain in his chest as he breathed too quickly. He would have been glad to skip the social altogether and sleep.

Hale gave him a small smile, "I would not be surprised if you were knighted for this."

Ernest made a face, more attention to himself was not what he wanted, "No thanks, but I would like to have a vacation."

"Noted." Hale laughed, "Now go to the party, find a nice girl, dance, and enjoy yourself."

* * *

Eleanor found herself counting away the minutes and wishing that the pitch in Lady Murdock's voice would lower in the next few seconds. The elder woman always sounded shrill when she spoke, and any further words that came from her mouth seemed to gain volume. Eleanor decided that if she was not called away in the next minute she would take her fan and shove it in her own ears to block out the sound.

She had arrived by coach to the fall social, accompanied by Susan, Mary Sue, and the remainder of her friend's families. It was odd to Eleanor that she was alone, and it was rather embarrassing when questioned as to the whereabouts of her own father and mother.

It was also not missed by her observation that everyone knew about the fall out with William Jones, and Eleanor detested the pity in the eyes that watched her. After so many years she was no longer bothered by it, so why should everyone else care? If anything disturbed her, it was the fact that her own family acted in a shameful manner regarding the whole incident.

Susan and Mary barely left her side the entire time, except when Eleanor took a seat in the middle of a few chatting noble women. It was important to make connections early on in life, Eleanor always thought to herself, so that if she needed them later it would come in handy. Despite the fact that she longed to return home and be welcomed by her parents, she also enjoyed the independence that had enabled her to do so much.

Suddenly, the ring of ladies fell silent, and then they began whispering. Eleanor looked confused, but this was soon solved by a soft, baritone voice behind her.

"It is a pleasure, Miss Campbell." the young man replied, "And it is been entirely too long of a time since I last saw you."

Eleanor briskly stood up, and faced him.

"Mr. Reeve." her face turning pale, "Indeed, it has been too long."

Ernest Reeve, Marquess of Wisteria. He was the same man that she had tried to forget. It had easily been five years since she had last seen him, and the time had done him much good. Back when they had first been acquainted, he had given her the feeling of someone who was slightly boyish at the same time. That was not the feeling he gave off now.

He was slightly taller, his dark hair was slicked back but a few bangs rest on his forehead. It was common knowledge that he was single, and that he managed the entire Reeve estate on his own since the death of his parents. While his business took him to London often, he always made it know that he adored his home. Ernest Reeve was honest, kind, and never failed to help someone in need.

The elder women around her tittered as he began to introduce himself to the circle of elder women, who were obviously enchanted by his presence. As the music started in the background, Ernest smiled and held out hand too her.

"May I have this dance, Miss Campbell?"

_Oh lord._

"You may." she curtsied, and then took his hand.

* * *

Ernest could hardly believe his eyes as he entered the ballroom. Out of the all people in the room, easily over a hundred or so, his eyes instantly recognized the daughter of Viscount Campbell. Since he had met her,there failed to be a woman that caught his eye as much as she had.

As they waltzed across the dance floor, he took this opportunity to read her expression.

"How have you been fairing in London?"

"Very well." she replied.

"Enjoying yourself?"

"Of course."

They were reduced to few-word sentences. Ernest would have kicked himself if it was possible. He could stand in front of a boardroom with twenty English nobles and tell them England was in danger from a rebellion against the throne, but he could not manage to ask the woman how she was feeling at the moment.

"How long will you be in London?" he inquired.

"A week." she replied, "I have a few more social priorities before I return home."

Last time she saw him, she was still recuperating from the loss of the engagement to William Jones. After she had returned to her family's home, Ernest had made a deal of tracking down Jones to question him further on the matter. It had come as a surprise to find that Will spent a great deal of time at his mother's villa when he was not at home, and the reason was even more surprising.

_Ernest sat on the couch in Aurellia Jones' parlor and glared at Will._

_"You asked her to marry you, and then turned down the engagement." Ernest glared, "What the bloody hell is wrong with you?"_

_"I didn't love her, Ernest." William stood, and looked absently out of the window, "Perhaps if Emma had not been kidnapped I could have been able to move on and marry Miss Campbell. It would have been easier and better for the both of us. Or, at least, that was what I thought."_

_"What do you mean?"_

_"I love Emma with all of my soul." William chuckled, "Which is why I am willing to go through the gossip, the lies, and the hardship. As long as Emma is here, I'll walk through hot coals if I must."_

_"Let's hope to God it doesn't come to that."_

_"Miss Campbell understood, and she deserves someone that will love her completely. Not a made-up affection to hide the fact that I was only afraid of myself." he looked at Ernest, "What, are you interested?"_

_Ernest shrugged, and took another sip of his tea._

_"Careful of the Viscount." William leaned on the windowsill, "There is something not right about him. I don't what it is, I just feel it."_

_He looked up at William, who suddenly had a dark look pass over his eyes. Will Jones was the sort of man that could get along with anyone, and had infinite patience and tolerance. For Campbell to upset him this badly, Reeve figured that there was truly something wrong with the Viscount._

_"I'll remember that."_

How a woman like Eleanor could be the daughter of such a horrid man, Ernest did not understand.

They continued to chat as the music continued. After a few more waltzes, they stood on the balcony to retreat from the crowd.

"What brings you to London?" she asked.

"I have business with one of the ministers." he said, it was not a lie but not the whole truth, "A matter that required my further attention. Normally, I would stay at the estate but the invitation from the palace could also not be ignored."

"Of course not." Eleanor gave him a sympathetic smile, "One could never turn down a summon from the Queen herself."

Ernest chuckled, "I am not a fan of these functions, but I admit there is some advantage in them."

He did not give a reason, and Eleanor thought that maybe she did not want to know herself. As she had been standing there listening to him speak, she had been thinking the same thing.

"Would you attend brunch with me tomorrow?"

Eleanor was surprised a brief moment, and then faded to a calm smile, "If Mary Sue Standford does not require me to sit through another hour discussion of Lady Roth's interior decorations."

With that statement, Ernest laughed. The girl could always brighten his mood.

She blushed slightly, he looked so wonderful he smiled. The boyish charm came back from where it was hidden expertly under his business-like appearance. Her attention then turned to the large clock in the hall as it struck one in the morning.

"Quite late." Ernest replied, checking his watch, "Or early, depending on your glance of things. May I escort you home, Miss Campbell?"

She would have given him a million pounds to escort her home from the gala. After hours of forced smiling and attention, she was ready to drop on her feet. Taking her hand into the crook of his arm, Ernest returned to the main hall to say their good-byes. There were glances diverted in their direction, and Eleanor had not a doubt in her mind that rumors would be spreading quickly of her being escorted by Lord Wisteria.

* * *

It was beginning to snow outside as she pulled her thick gloves on. They protected her hands nicely from the cold, and the cloak on her shoulders was light, but still managed to keep her warm. Holding up a hand to summon a coach, Ernest stood beside her as a carriage pulled up to them. Once they were inside, he asked the question that he would have only asked in private.

"How have you been?"

The question escaped his lips before her could stop it.

"I..." she stopped briefly, "I have been well," it was the truth, "And you?"

Ernest knew she was hiding something, but there was a glint in her eyes that said she really was okay. He did not question her about William, and could tell that she was no longer worried.

"Well enough."

It was then that the carriage jostled slightly, and he winced. His ribs were sore and aching from the traveling and the long nights. Two days ago he had broken them, and they felt worse then when he was first injured.

"Are you sure?" Eleanor asked with a hint of concern in her voice, "You look slightly pale."

Oh God, he needed sleep and warm bath. His left hand unconsciously rest on his ribs.

"I am alright," he nodded, "Just tired."

Eleanor nodded, but did not seem satisfied with that comment. Looking out the window towards the night, she then giggled. Ernest blinked, "What?"

"Thank you for saving me earlier."

Ernest smiled, he remembered the look on her face while she was sitting in the ring of women earlier, "It was nothing."

"No, it was a lot," she laughed again, "I was afraid I would have to come up with something drastic to get away."

He laughed outright, despite the fact that laughing made the pain shoot through his entire body.

"Ah, Miss Campbell." he chuckled, "It has been too long."

She smiled, "It has."

The coach jostled once more, and she almost laughed again at the annoyed look that suddenly dawned on his face. Looking through the window, Ernest tried to catch sight of the driver who was obviously not Thorngood, "Excuse me, sir-"

He gasped.

There was no one driving the coach. He heard Eleanor shriek as there was a blast and a bullet sailed past his head to sink into the carriage walls.

* * *

___The next chapter is already finished and in the edit stage. I can't really tell you how long this story will be, but I can tell you that the next chapter will be up before the middle of the week._

___So, I made Ernest a Marquess. I'm pretty sure in the story he doesn't really have a title, but I decided to be a little daring and give him one :D_

_Arigato_

_Lilith_


	3. Chapter 3

_Thanks for being patient! I hope you like the next chapter. :D_

_Disclaimer: I do not own Victorian Romance Emma, nor anything that may relate, resemble, or seem similar to any work written by Josie Litton._

* * *

Ernest heard Eleanor shriek at the blast. A bullet sailed past his head and sunk into the carriage walls. Looking behind in the direction of the bullet, another coach was gaining on them.

"Damn it." he swore, pulling his head out of the window. They had been following him all the way from the palace from the looks of it, "Miss Campbell!"

She looked up, hearing him calling towards her, "What is going on?"

"We're being chased," he did not tell her they were after him, "Can you drive a coach?"

"Why are they-"

"I will explain later. For now we must get away from them."

She could drive a carriage. It was one of the few things that Monica had insisted she learn when they were out of the watchful eye of their father. Ernest tore the front window of the carriage open, and it was just large enough for her to crawl to the front. Sitting down on the bench, Eleanor drew the reigns, and cracked them once.

Ernest was instantly standing next to her, gripping tightly on the edge of the coach roof. Reaching into his long dress coat, he drew a pistol and returned fire.

"Go towards the river!" he called.

Eleanor only nodded, and he held his balance as she made a sharp turn. Ernest cursed himself for not being more careful of Minister Hale's words, and now Eleanor was dragged in with him. At the moment, all that mattered was getting her out safely. He felt one of the bullets sail past and graze his arm as they drew up along the river.

"Tie the reigns tight!" he ordered.

She tied them to the edge of the bench railing as he ducked from the fire and buckled the pistol back into his jacket.

"What are we doing?" she asked, "Who are these people? What is-"

"I'll explain later."

She shrieked once more as he scooped her up in his arms and dove into the river.

* * *

Eleanor flinched.

The last five minutes seemed like some sort of over-imaginative dream. Had it been longer then that? When Ernest had grabbed her and jumped out of the coach, the last thing she remembered was plunging into the icy water. Now she was laying on the river bank alone.

No, she was not alone.

A heavy cloak material lay over her, and it took her a moment to realize that Ernest had dragged them both onto the riverbank. He had stretched an arm over her, laying his own coat over her to keep her warm, then passed out. Her eyes gazed back at him, and she sat up slowly in hopes that they were truly alone and those...people were not after them again.

"My lord?" she whispered, "Lord Wisteria?

He did not stir. Reaching to shake him gently, there was something sticking to the side of his arm. Bring her hand back, she gasped when she saw blood. It didn't look like a bullet wound, only like he had gashed himself on the rocks in the river.

"My lord," she called out, all caution forgotten, "Wake up!"

He groaned, and his blue eyes opened to look at her. She let out a sigh, relief washing over her as he flinched, "Are you alright?" he managed to say, despite his raspy voice.

All propriety forgotten, Eleanor glared at him, "What the bloody hell is going on?"

Ernest chuckled and tried to sit up, a quick gasp escaping him. His ribs had been jostled too much. Seeing his difficulty, Eleanor reached forward to help him up. He then yelped as she threw them both back to the ground at the sound of an approaching coach.

It stopped, the horses hooves quieting on the cobblestone street. Stepping down from the bench, an old, burly man headed towards them. To Ernest's surprise, she covered him with her own body.

"Stay away." she glared at the approaching stranger, "Or I swear-"

Ernest looked up, "Thorngood."

"You'll what, Missy?" Thorngood chuckled, "Glare me to death?"

She made a face as both men laughed at her short moment of heroism. Thorngood stepped forward and hauled Ernest to his feet, ignoring the groan of pain in the younger man's voice.

"You foolish boy. You should know better than to throw yourself in the goddamn drink with those busted ribs." Thorngood dragged his lord to the carriage. Eleanor rustled after them, holding the ends of her skirts to keep up.

"Broken ribs?" Eleanor frowned as Thorngood yanked the coach door open and set Ernest on the bench, "What do you mean broken ribs?"

Ernest was tuning everything out. Thorngood and Eleanor continued to banter amongst themselves, but nothing they said sunk into his mind. The truth of the matter was that he was in trouble. If the underground was trying to openly kill him without caring about what outside parties became involved in the process, he had a few more problems on his hands than just a few rebels.

The ride back to the Reeve Estate seemed longer than it was. Howl was already at the front steps, helping Thorngood hoist Ernest out of the carriage. Seeing Eleanor following them, Howl sighed, "You look a little worse for wear, missy."

Eleanor looked at herself. Her clothes were just starting to dry, but she was covered with dirt and there were still leaves in her hair. She was certain that there would be some bruises on her arms and legs. Until that moment, she had not thought about her current appearance.

"Oh my goodness," she suddenly blushed, "I d-don't have anything with me. My maid-"

"It's alright, my lady." Howl gave her a reassuring smile, "There is clothing and supplies here at the estate that you may use. Once I tend to Lord Wisteria, I will come and help you."

"There's no need." she waved a hand, "I'll just go back to the hotel-"

"Think, Missy," Thorngood pointed a finger at her, "How many questions are you going to get if you show up at the hotel covered in dirt and soaking wet?"

Eleanor frowned, they were right. There would be less questions about her leaving with Ernest Reeve then there would be if she showed up at the Inn in the state she was in. This way, she could make up a story about where she would have been that night.

"Alright."

* * *

Ernest winced once more as Howl finished tending to the wounds. "You're in bad shape, sir. You need rest. I will see to Lady Campbell's needs."

"There is something going on here that I don't know about." Ernest frowned, "Has Thorngood left yet? I need to send a message."

"He is downstairs talking with Miss Campbell." Howl packed the supplies back into the medical box. Reeve stood, and took a pen and paper from his desk. Scribbling a quick message alerting Minister Hale of what had happened, he folded it and gave it to Howl.

"See that this reaches Hale." Ernest said, "It's very important. If he sends a message in return, wake me. I don't care what time it would be."

"Yes, sir."

"Give Miss Campbell anything she wants. Put her in the room down the hall in the west wing." he explained, "Wake me if she-"

"Sir." Howl sighed, "I can take care of it."

Ernest nodded as Howl shut the door. With a sigh, he fell on the bed. He never remembered getting injured this many times in his life, or feeling this exhausted. Despite all of these things, part of him felt happy. Miss Campbell was staying at _his_ house.

He smiled, and could not help the fact that he liked the idea.

* * *

Howl lead her up the stairs. The young lady that the marquess had brought back was rather intriguing to him. She was fragile looking, pale, and thin, but she was pretty. From what Howl had heard from various sources, Eleanor was very smart and well-spoken. The girl had interests in various subjects ranging from art to politics, and she was able to draw, ride, and play the piano. It was no doubt that she knew these things because of her upbringing. Her family was very demanding.

He opened one of the French doors to the room in the west wing. Eleanor's mouth dropped open as she stared at the four-poster, canopy bed with silk sheets. The room was white and pale pastel colors, and there was a door opened to the balcony. The large wardrobe was placed across the room from the bed, and a white table was placed next to the bed. It was the most beautiful room she had ever seen.

"I'm glad you like it." Howl smiled, he opened another door next to the wardrobe that lead to a guest bathroom. The tub was run and there were clean towels, "Take as long as you like. There are clothes in the closet, and you are welcome to what you wish. If you require anything, ring and I will send one of the maids up to help you."

"Thank you very much." Eleanor smiled. In any other situation she would have refused the offer and gone home. However, the prospect of a warm bath was too alluring to ignore, "How is Lord Wisteria?"

"He is resting and his wounds have been tended too. Tomorrow morning he should be good and new." Howl assured her, "Good night, Miss Campbell."

"Good night, thank you." she nodded numbly as he shut the door behind him.

It had been an eventful day. Stripping off her dirty clothes, Eleanor slid into the tub and sighed. The water felt wonderful and there was an sent of jasmine in the air. Eleanor could not help but smile. Her mother used to run jasmine oil in the bath as well.

She felt more tired than normal when she got out of the tub. Dressing in the nightgown, she pulled back the covers and climbed into bed. Tomorrow she would have a lot of questions, but for now she found that the only thing on her mind was Ernest.

It had scared her when he was laying on the riverbank. The brief thought of him being dead had terrified her more than she thought it would, and her heart skipped a beat once more. Seeing him for the first time after so many years was wonderful.

With a smile on her face, she fell asleep.

* * *

Minister Hale stared at the note on his desk. Thorngood had just delivered it, along with a grim reply about Reeve's and Lady Campbell's well being. Having Reeve caught in the conflict was hard enough, but now that the Campbell daughter was involved there were more problems on Hale's shoulders than normal.

"Up late again, Thomas?"

Minister Collin Aver was a fellow member of the council, and an aid to Victoria. Hale had known the man since college, and although Aver's view were generally a little conservative, his public speaking and debate skills were unrivaled.

"No rest for the weary." Hale gave him a sympathetic smile after stashing the message in his desk. Only Hale knew of the arrangement to protect Victoria and that Wisteria was working for the crown.

"Her Excellency has informed me that she wishes you to attend the brunch talk tomorrow morning. Myself as well as Minister Bright will be there." Aver informed him, "There are certain state matters that she requires advice on."

"I will make a note of it."

Aver nodded, the answer was good enough for him. He than frowned, "Are you alright? You look a little tense."

"I am fine. Just tired."

After a few moment, Collin decided that response was enough. Excusing himself, he took leave and shut the study door behind him. Hale stared at the top of his desk once more. There was no way that the underground would be foolish enough to attack Reeve when he was not alone.

Was there someone else involved that Hale did not know about?

He hoped not.

* * *

Annie fidgeted once more in the coach as it stopped in front of the Wisteria Estate. She had received a note that morning that Eleanor had stayed there, and that a carriage had been arranged to bring Annie to the mansion. A Marquess? The name had sounded so familiar, and then it struck Annie while she was in the carriage. It was the same man all those years ago who had expressed interest in Eleanor not too long after the broken engagement. At the time, Eleanor had really reciprocated, since she was still upset over William Jones.

When the door was opened, she was greeted by a tall blond man standing in front of the building.

"I am Howl, the butler here." Howl bowed slightly as she curtsied, "Thank you for coming so quickly."

"It's no trouble." Annie smiled, "Anne Aldridge."

"This way, Miss Aldridge."

She followed him through the front entry way to the dining room. There was strange look on Howl's face as there was a sudden rise of voices coming down the hallway. Both Howl and Annie exchanged a look and leaned towards the doorway. They were well acquainted with the change of mood of the people they were entrusted with.

"I could never think of such a thing!" Eleanor told Ernest, an aghast look on her face, "People will-"

"I don't care what people say." Ernest ignored her look and her comment. He took a sip of coffee and returned to his paper, "It is safer for you to stay here."

Howl's eyebrows went up in the air, and he did not miss the small surprised noise that Annie made.

"You won't give me any explanation." Eleanor replied, "I refuse to be led around without knowing what as going on."

"It is for your own protection. You are more safe if you don't know."

"I think we've both seen how safe I am!"

Annie and Howl leaned closer to the doorway. She watched Eleanor storm to her feet and head towards the door. Annie was fascinated by the fact that for the first time in the whole of Eleanor Campbell's life, she was speaking loudly. She was being expressive and saying what was on her mind.

What in the world was going on? Although, whatever had happened, Annie was sure grateful to the Lord Wisteria that he managed to get her lady to express herself in such a manner.

"If you don't tell me why you wish me to stay here than I will leave this instant-"

"Fine!" Ernest was standing before another word left Eleanor's mouth, "I am investigating the possibility that someone is trying to overthrow the British crown," he watched as she froze and turned towards him, "The same people that I have been trying to negotiate with have been trying to kill me for the information I know. Now they're after you."

* * *

_Send a review and tell me what you think!_

_Arigato_

_Lilith_


	4. Chapter 4

Here's the next chapter. Thanks for waiting!

Disclaimer: I do not own Victorian Romance Emma, nor anything that may relate, resemble, or seem similar to any work written by Josie Litton.

* * *

When Eleanor had woke that morning expecting to have a delightful conversation with Mr. Reeve before going back to the Inn. It had been years since she had slept so well, and she had woke up feeling much better than when she went to bed the night before. Part of it she attributed to the fact that she felt so at home in his house that it scared her, and the other part was that the dress that she found laid out for her that morning. 

It was silk, a pale yellow, and absolutely beautiful. The maid had told her that 'Young Master Reeve' had picked it out himself. Eleanor had happily put it on and was barely able to contain a smile as she headed down the stairs to greet Reeve at the breakfast table.

Ernest had promptly declared at the table that she would be staying there until further notice. Her belongings would be transported to the Reeve Estate, and Annie was already on her way there. He did this without consulting her, and without prior notice.

"You can't just _tell_ me what to do." Eleanor frowned.

She was too used to being the controller of her own actions. After traveling on her own for the better part of the last few years, Eleanor had never realized how much she hated being dictated to until someone spoke to her in such a way. There was no way she would remain in a place where it would be a repeat of her family's home. If Ernest Reeve did not give her a significant enough reason for locking her away like a bird in a cage, she was not going to waste her time with him.

"If you don't tell me why you wish me to stay here than I will leave this instant-"

"Fine!" Ernest was standing before another word left Eleanor's mouth, "I am investigating the possibility that someone is trying to overthrow the British throne," he watched as she froze and turned towards him, "The same people that I have been trying to negotiate with have been trying to kill me for the information I know. Now they're after you."

Eleanor stood still, and Ernest watched the emotions play across her face. First confusion, shock, and than disbelief, "You are lying."

Normally, he punched a person that called him a liar. Ernest figured that was not the best way to go with her, "I do not. I work for Minister Thomas Hale. We are trying to uncover the plot before Queen Victoria is put in danger. Over the years we have managed to keep it out of the press, but it is becoming more difficult. Until now, the underground has not involved outside parties."

"Until now." Eleanor murmured.

"They will come after you now that you've seen them." Ernest came towards her, "And that you have been seen with me."

Panic was beginning to set it. Why would he lie about something like this? It terrified her that he was telling the truth. Ernest did not have a reason to lie to her about something like this.

Eleanor shook her head, "I am just a normal person. I have never done anything wrong. Why are they-"

He stepped forward, ignoring propriety for once, and he laid his hands on her face. Gently guiding her gaze up towards his, he tried to give her a reassuring smiled, "I am sorry, Miss Campbell. It is my fault that you are now brought into this. You are in danger because of me. If there is anything I could do, I would do it, but this is the only option I have so I know that you will be okay."

He was touching her face. Eleanor felt her cheeks warm under his hands and she hoped that her entire face was not red.

"I...I am-"

"I will protect you here." Ernest told her, "Please, don't worry."

Words stopped coming from her mind, and Eleanor just stared silently at him. She had been dragged into his world of shadows, and now she found that she was no longer the same person that she was yesterday.

"I..."

There was a rumble of a carriage outside. Ernest did not hear it as he stared into her green eyes. Even if Eleanor had consented at the moment, he would not have understood her. His fingers were itching, and thumb followed the edge of her face to clear the hair from her eyes. Touching her was a mistake, but now it was too late to realize it.

The knock on the door startled them, and they jerked apart as if they were spooked by a ghost. Ernest was still watching her, and Eleanor found that she felt too exposed under his gaze.

"Enter." Ernest finally remembered to say as there was another knock at the door.

"Sir," Howl walked in, not commenting on Eleanor's red face, "Lady Campbell's maid is here."

"Annie?" Eleanor looked up, and a smile lite up her face as Annie stepped into the doorway, bowing slightly to Mr. Reeve, she smiled and hugged Eleanor.

"Are you alright, m'Lady?" Annie asked, "Mr. Turn told me what happened. You're carriage overturned and you fell in the river? That's horrible!"

"I-I'm alright. They have been very kind to me." Eleanor smiled, "I don't have anything here. We should head back to the Inn as soon as possible."

"But, I don't understand." Annie replied, "The coachman told me you would be staying here."

Eleanor glared back at Ernest, who returned the stare back at her. Was the girl too stubborn to realize what was for her own good?

"There is one more thing, sir." Howl replied.

There was a clang as the front door opened in the hall, "Ernest!" a voice called, "Ernest, my dear boy, I'm home!"

Howl turned to face all of them, "Lady Wisteria has returned."

* * *

Wisteria Reeve was an older woman, in her late sixties, who had outlived both her son, daughter-in-law, and husband. Despite this, she tried to live life to the fullest and made it her duty in life to make Ernest's life as interesting as possible. She never understood why the boy was always so serious, or why he always was hiding away from the rest of the world. 

"Grandmother." Ernest said as he emerged from the dining room, he smiled as she kissed his cheeks and he returned the gesture, "How was your trip?"

"Oh, delightful!" Wisteria smiled, "You really should have come along, Ernest. All of this work will only make you age faster."

"As you say," he replied, "Have your bags been retrieved?"

"Howl is taking care of it. I shall unpack them myself later." she waved off the offer of having the maids do it for her. As she opened her mouth to chide Ernest about his pale, thin appearance, her eyes fell on the petite woman in the pale dress, "Ernest, dear, who is this young lady?"

"This is Lady Eleanor Campbell, daughter of the Viscount Campbell. Miss Campbell, this is my grandmother, Lady Wisteria Reeve." Ernest introduced.

Eleanor curtsied to the woman, already expecting the same reaction she always got at the sound of her name, "It is a pleasure to meet you, Lady Reeve."

It would always been the same. The person she would meet would give her a sympathetic look, pat her hand, tell her that it was nice to meet her, and then once she left they would gossip-

"Don't bow so low, girl, you'll wreck you back." Wisteria told her, pointing a finger in Eleanor's direction, "Hold your head up and don't stare at the floor when you speak. Someone may think you are being untruthful."

Eleanor's mouth dropped open. Ernest frowned, "Grandmother-"

"Stand up straight, and don't gape at people." Wisteria poked the girl in the arm, and Eleanor promptly stood straight with her head high, "Have some self respect. How old are you?"

"Twenty two." Eleanor replied.

"You are the youngest child in your family?"

"I am."

Wisteria walked around the girl, nodding as if she was inspecting the girl, "What are your hobbies?"

"Drawing, riding, and piano."

"Miss Campbell will be staying with us while she is in London." Ernest spoke, completely disregarding Eleanor's livid look.

"Will she?" Wisteria glanced at Eleanor, "And what does Miss Campbell think about this decision of yours, Ernest?"

Ernest made a face, "She-"

"-_I_ am waiting for an explanation as well, my Lady." Eleanor replied tartly, and then felt embarrassed at her outburst. She had never voiced her opinion so loudly in front of other nobles before. However, as she was just about to apologize, Wisteria burst out laughing.

"This girl of yours has a backbone after all, Ernest." she laughed, "Come into the study and have a cup of tea with me, Eleanor. Is that alright if I call you Eleanor? Please call me Wisteria. Howl, get us some tea!"

Eleanor felt like she was being swept away as Wisteria pulled the girl into the study by the arm. Ernest's stared at the whole scene, his eyes wide as Howl turned towards the kitchen for the tea. Annie followed after the butler, sure that the safest place at the moment was out of the way of the elder Reeve woman.

_What had just happened?_

Ernest sighed, dragging a hand over his face. This was going to be a long day.

* * *

Lady Wisteria Reeve was one of the most delightful people Eleanor had ever met in her life. 

At the beginning, she had been nervous at meeting the woman, and now she felt foolish. Wisteria had sat her down in the study with a cup of tea, and began to tell Eleanor about her trip to the coast. She talked almost non-stop, and Eleanor tried to keep up with the onslaught of information.

"So, Eleanor, how did you come to reside in my home? It was very courageous if you to stand up to Ernest. Do not think ill of him, he is just very driven."

"I...I attended the social at the palace for Queen Victoria. I had the pleasure of a previous acquaintance with Mr. Reeve in the past, and he was escorting me home last night. Our coach overturned as we were leaving, and so I stayed here the night because the distance to the Inn was too far."

"You poor dear." Wisteria tutted, "What a horrible thing, no wonder you look exhausted. You are welcome to stay here as long as you please. Speaking of which, I am attending a lunch-in tomorrow with some family friends. Normally I must go alone, but I would be forever grateful if you accompanied me."

Eleanor smiled, and before she could stop herself, she said, "I would love too."

"That's wonderful, dear! In the meantime, please think about staying in the estate while you are here. Having another person to talk to would be so encouraging. Ernest is always so busy, and Howl is extremely dull."

She finally discovered the intent that Lady Wisteria had. The elder woman was trying to salvage the attempt to keep her in the house, while also trying to set her up with Ernest. Eleanor knew that Reeve was a good person, but she wished he had at least thought of her feelings and asked her opinion before deciding for her.

"Alright, I'll stay." Eleanor smiled, taking a sip of tea. Maybe it would not be such a bad idea after all, and having another person to travel with may be beneficial.

"Good." Wisteria gave a smile that hinted at knowledge only known to herself.

* * *

Ernest stood on the balcony as the door opened from the library. It had been a few hours since his grandmother and Miss Campbell disappeared into the study. 

"Honestly, Ernest, if you like the girl you should just tell her so." Wisteria strode into the room and came to stand next to her grandson, "Must you really be so dramatic?"

He made a face, his grandmother could always read him like a book. "Miss Campbell only sees me as a friend. It would be impolite to try and impose anything more on her without her consent."

"You are the one that is being overly cautious." Wisteria told him, "She's a sweet girl. I have heard the rumors about her, those bloody gossiping vultures. The poor girl has had to deal with more than most people twice her age. With that wretched man as her father...give the girl a little respect, Ernest."

He was being scolded, and Ernest figured he deserved it. After all the events of last night, it had shocked her since he had dumped all the information on her at once, "I apologize."

"Don't apologize to me, boy." Wisteria said, "Go on."

Ernest looked at her.

"Go!" Wisteria shooed him away. With a grumble, Ernest disappeared out of the door, and she turned back to the window. It was about time that her grandson returned to the outside world inside of hiding in that shell of his.

* * *

Ernest sat at the desk in his office. It had been a few hours since the servants had been moving in Miss Campbell's belongings from the Inn, and he could still hear his grandmother chatting delightfully with the girl. He figured that it would be good for Lady Wisteria to have another person in the house to occupy her, he had the feeling that his grandmother was often lonely. 

There was a knock at the door, and Ernest replied back. Howl entered, holding a tray of tea and biscuits, along with the mail for the day. Ernest set down the document he had been looking and took a generous sip of tea, "Howl, I thank you from the bottom of my soul."

There was a touch of vodka in the tea, for the way the day was going he really needed it. Howl simply nodded, "Of course, sir."

Ernest took the first letter, "Junk." he took three social invites off the top.

"Invitations are not junk mail, sir."

"They are to me, Howl." he tossed them one the filing box on his desk. Later, as later as he could make it, he would go through and decide which one would be the less painful to go to. There was another letter from the trading company from India, another regarding an investment from Switzerland, and then two rather interesting letters that spiked his interest.

The first was from William Jones, the return address was listed from his mother's villa. Slicing the side of the envelope open, he read the letter that Jones had sent him.

_Rosaline Kelly Jones._

"A daughter." Ernest replied absently, speaking out loud to himself. It had been two years since he had attended the Jones' wedding. Emma Jones was a strong woman, petite, and Ernest found that he could not help but admire her. The woman was willing to stand up against society. To that day, Emma's permanent residence continued to be at Aurellia Jones' villa. Since her kidnapping, Will had been afraid to leave her alone anywhere near the main city.

He would have to send a congratulations and a nice bottle of whiskey to William later.

The second letter was from Minister Hale, reading that Ernest was to report to London as soon as he was able. It also read that if he tried to work for the next few days with injures that Hale would promptly come to Reeve mansion and chew out Ernest himself.

"Please excuse me, sir. I must see to the dinner arrangements."

"Of course, thank you." Ernest waved absently. He continued to read Hale's letter when he heard a creek at the door. Looking forward, Ernest immediately stood up, "Miss Campbell."

"I...I didn't mean to come in. Howl was leaving, and I just followed-" she answered.

"It's alright."

She stood a seat in one of the chairs next to the window, "Is that a letter from your superiors?"

"Yes." Ernest nodded, stacking the letter on top of William's letter and sticking both in the file in his desk. He really did not want to have to deal with any possible repercussions if Eleanor were to see Will's letter, "Hale wants us to lay low for a few days until things smooth over. It's safe for you here, and he says that there is already an investigation going on in London."

Eleanor nodded, "That is good." she looked at his bookshelf and pulled off a book on international trade.

"I hope my grandmother is not too tiring."

"Not at all." she smiled to herself. On the contrary, it was nice to have a mother-figure who did not cower and scold her for speaking out loud. "Lady Wisteria is a wonderful person. We've been having quite a nice day."

"That's good."

_What to say..._

He could not exactly explain it, but it felt better to have someone that knew what he was doing. Ernest had to admit that it was difficult to have to work all alone, and now that Miss Campbell knew, he felt a little more at ease.

"Miss Campbell, when I return to London to brief my superiors, could you come with me? They will probably want to have a word with you now that you know everything."

"I will."

* * *

Send a review and tell me what you think! 

Arigato

Lilith


	5. Chapter 5

_Author's Note: Hello! I am still here. It's been such a long time since I've worked on fanfiction, but this story was always one of my favorites to work on :D Thank you all for being patient, and I promise the next update will be up as soon as it is finished!_

_Disclaimer: I do not own Victorian Romance Emma_

* * *

Annie was following Howl around the house, learning the layout of the estate, and trying to unpack her mistress's belongings all at the same time. It was overwhelming to try and learn everything, and it did not help that Howl seemed so intimidating. Her first impression of the man was that he was like a stone wall. He never smiled, laughed, or did anything outrageous in her presence, and she had a feeling he was like that for everyone.

"The house is very large." Howl turned to her, "If you get lost, please feel free to ask anyone for help."

"Of course, Mr. Turn." she told him, carrying a few of Eleanor's clothes with her. She was moving back and forth between the laundry room and the Eleanor's chambers.

"Would you like to see where your room is?" he asked.

She had completely forgotten about it. Her bags were still set in the corner of her lady's room. After learning that Eleanor was leaving on another trip with Master Reeve, the packing had been much too diverting. It concerned her that she would not be going along, but Annie had a feeling that Lord Reeve would take care of Eleanor well enough.

"Oh, ah-" she nodded, "-yes. I will get my things from my Lady's room, and then-"

"I will take them for you," Howl followed her as she dashed down the hallway. He was slightly amused by her frantic motions and quick thoughts. Miss Aldridge was stressed, and he figured that anyone would be if they were in her situation.

"Th-That's not necessary," she laid Eleanor's clothes on the bed to be packed, moving expertly around the large suitcases and boxes to the two bags in the corner of the room. Picking them up, she gasped as she turned quickly and almost bumped into Howl.

His deep blue eyes stared into hers as he laid a hand on her shoulder, "It's alright, Miss Aldridge. You don't have to do everything by yourself here," he took her bags from her before she could reply. Annie watched him stroll from the room. Underneath all of the cold expressions he had, there was something else about him that she could not figure out.

"Come along," he called. Annie rushed after him, following him towards the south wing of the estate. He was still explaining which rooms were which, but Annie did not really hear him. She was exhausted. "My room is here," he motioned towards a set of double doors, "Yours will be here. Please knock if you need anything."

He pushed open another set of doors, and her mouth gaped at the room in front of her.

It was not too different from Eleanor's. A litter smaller, but it was bigger than anything she had ever stayed in. Back at the Campbell house, her room was no different than living in the attic. Seeing her shocked expression, Howl explained, "The Reeve family has always felt that the employees deserve to have adequate accommodations."

"I see," she murmured, sitting on the bed. There were silk sheets, "This is wonderful."

"I have put two sets of uniforms in the closet. The cook will give you a tour of the kitchen. Since Miss Campbell and the Master will be leaving today, we will only be serving dinner for Lady Wisteria."

Annie nodded, still speechless from the room. Setting her bags on the floor, he head towards the door, "Welcome, Miss Aldridge. Although you are working with us, you are still a guest. Ask if you need anything at all."

"Of course," she managed to say.

His blond hair was slicked back, but there was a piece falling in front of his eyes. He reached up and pulled it back, and was out of the door after a nod of his head. Annie stared at the door for a few minutes, and then stood to investigate the uniforms.

* * *

Eleanor tucked her gloves into her jacket as Annie straightened the hem of her dress, "Will you be alright, my Lady?"

"I'll have to be." Eleanor sighed, "How about you, Annie? Are you sure that you'll be alright here by yourself?"

"I will manage," Annie smiled, "They are teaching me to help with the cook tonight."

"Good luck," she replied, "Don't overwork yourself."

"I promise," Annie stood, "Good luck to yourself, m'lady. Take care."

Eleanor nodded, and Annie followed her down the hallway to where Ernest was waiting in the front entry. He was dressed in his formal travel clothes, Howl was handing him his hat and gloves. Lady Wisteria kissed his cheeks, "You'd better take care of yourself, boy."

"I will, Grandmother," he kissed her cheek as well, "Miss Campbell will keep me in line."

"You bet she will," Wisteria smiled at the girl, "I'll take care of things here. Both of you have fun."

Eleanor nodded and disappeared out of the door with Reeve. Wisteria turned to Annie and Howl, clapping her hands she said, "I think this should be a fun night. I hope Howl here has been treating you well, dear."

"Everyone has been very friendly," Annie nodded, "I am honored that you are allowing me to work here while my mistress stays in the mansion."

"She gave us an excellent reference," Wisteria grinned, "I am going to the study, dinner will be ready at seven?"

"Yes, ma'am," Howl replied.

"Good, good. Annie, bring me a brandy."

"Yes, ma'am."

* * *

Eleanor sat in the carriage next to Ernest. She stared absently out of the window while he read, and could not understand how he could do so without being ill. Reading in a moving carriage always made her queasy.

"Tell me about these people that are after you."

Ernest did not look up from his book, "Minister Hale will explain it."

"I want to hear it from you first."

He sighed, and marked the page he had been reading, "I don't know what their actual name is, I have not been able to find out. But they disagree with how England is run, and they plan to overthrow the crown to make this known. Most likely by trying to make an attempt on Queen Victoria's life."

"How could they do such a thing?"

"I don't know. It is hard to understand madness," he leaned his head back on the wall of the coach.

"Why were you chosen to do this?"

"My father was friends with Hale. After my father died, I took over the Reeve estate, and told Hale that I would help whenever need be. I have various contacts around Europe that are very useful in trying to find out information."

"Is that how you learned of this?"

"Yes."

Eleanor asked him everything she wanted to know, and he methodically answered. After a few brief moments, the carriage was then covered in silence. By the time they reached London, she was exhausted from running all the information through her mind and Ernest was tired from the worry. He had tried his best to keep others out of his assignments, and now the only person that he had ever allowed to be involved was Eleanor.

As they pulled up in front of the Reeve residence in London, Eleanor found herself strangely detached as Ernest helped her from the coach. The maid would see to her things, so Eleanor had tried to settle herself down in the drawing room with a cup of tea while Ernest solved some business issues. In effort to tear her thoughts from the possible path that could endanger her life, she found herself analyzing the room itself.

Every room in a residence of the Reeve family had an element that did not exist in the home she grew up in. There was life and personality to the house as well as the establishment in London. She could tell that there was laughter in those rooms, while in contrast to the Campbell home, there was always a tense silence filled with the unspoken order to behave.

Eleanor felt more at ease when she was with Reeve than any other person she had ever been with.

"Minister Hale has told us to report to the palace tomorrow morning," Ernest told her as he entered. It was late in the evening, and he had loosened his tie. His topcoat was removed and left over one of the chairs in the sitting room, the sleeves of his dress shirt were rolled to the elbows. Knowing that she was not fond of drinking, he only poured himself a sifter of brandy.

"Oh?"

"He was tied up in official business with the Queen and requested that we visit tomorrow. After the ride, I agreed it was for the best."

"Taking a break from daring adventures, Mr. Reeve? Whatever will everyone think of you?"

She was teasing him in order to hide the fact that she was nervous. Ernest smiled at the fact that she seemed to be more relaxed than in the carriage.

"I must admit, however, that I wish for normality from time from time."

"Only that?" Eleanor asked.

"Of course," he replied, "I am like any man. I wish to establish myself, have a legacy. Although, I wish that my travels were not always so dramatic." _And I wish to settle down and have a family to come home to_, but he did not say that.

Eleanor watched him sit across from her, and leaned into the sofa. He was just as tired as she was, and now that they were finished with the small talk of the day, she had no further conversation ideas to use on him. Not having anything else to say, she stood stiffly, "I believe I am going to retire."

He stood with her, as it was the gentlemanly thing to do. Nodding to her as she curtsied, Ernest watched her make her way towards the drawing room door. Before she could leave, he called to her.

"Miss Campbell."

She turned back towards him, and found him right behind her. How did he move so far so quickly?

"Yes?" she tried to hide the fact that her cheeks were warming up.

"Thank you," he said, "It has been a while since I have had someone to travel with to listen to my troubles. It means a great deal to me."

"It's nothing," she looked up and realized it was a bad idea.

There was a light tint to her cheeks, and Ernest found himself drawing in her eyes. Eleanor quickly looked away and backed towards the door, reaching behind her to grab the handle when her back rapped against the door.

"I-I'll take my leave. Good night, Mr. Reeve. Wh-What time should I wake for breakfast-"

He moved quickly, as fast as he had when he rose from the sofa to her side. It was a foolish move, Ernest knew in his mind, but he had to know what it would feel like. A greedy part of him allowed his conscience to use that excuse to follow his heart instead of his mind.

Ernest rest a hand on the side of her face, and gently kissed her.

Eleanor's eyes grew wide, first at the gentle touch on her cheek, and then at his lips. As her hand began to slowly slip from the door, she sunk into him. Feeling that she was giving him no such move of reprisal, Ernest rest his other hand on her face, and let the greed take him.

He kissed her, stepping forward to press her into the door. There was a soft moan, from himself or her he did not know, and he slipped through her lips to taste her. She was sweet, and smelled of spring rain and lilies. It took him a few moments to realize that she was gripping the back of his shirt, her fingers were wrapped in the silk material. The feel of her snapped the little control he had, and he turned his head and devoured her.

A little gasp escaped from her, and he realized that her back was pressing into the door. Christ, what was wrong with him? The poor girl was probably scared out of her wits, and he was that cause of her fear. Ernest released her, stepping back as far as he could and grasping the back of the chair as to avoid touching her.

"I apologize," he said, "I....I should not have done that. I am sorry."

Eleanor stared at him. He kissed her and then apologized? Ernest looked away from her, and she felt a wave of anger pass through her. It was the first kiss she had ever received from a man, and at that moment, he had apologized for it. Although Ernest expected her to be upset, the crack that sounded from her hand connecting with his cheek still shocked him.

"Damn you," she said, "Damn you to hell if you ever try to touch me again, Ernest Reeve."

With that, she slammed the door, and Ernest flinched at the noise. There was nothing he could do know, if was safer if she hated him anyway. Safer for her, and if keeping her away from him accomplished that, he would been content all the same.

Content, but that did not stop his heart from sinking in his chest or the sudden feeling of loneliness that came over him.

* * *

Annie was having the time of her life at the Reeve mansion. Howl complimented her on her work on polishing the silver, and she could not help but smile. At the Campbell residence, she would have received a huff and an order to go on with her business. However, she was quite delighted that not only did Lady Wisteria seem pleased with Annie's work, Howl was taking a particular interest in allowing her help in any way she could.

As it drew evening on the fifth day she had been at the Reeve hall, Annie found herself completely happy with where she was. Occasionally, she would allow herself a fantasy of how it would be to stay at the Reeve mansion permanently, and then would chase the idea from her mind. It would do her no good what so ever to dream of the impossible.

Standing out on her balcony, sipping a cup of tea, she was lost in the stars.

"It is quite brisk, Miss Aldridge."

She jumped, and glanced towards her left. Standing on the balcony next to her, was Howl. As she realized he was there, her mouth went dry. There were defined muscles under the simple white dress shirt that he wore, and he looked wonderful in the black slacks and suspenders. His hair had become loose in the calm wind, and tumbled over his eyes. He was drinking a glass of brandy, a relaxed look across his face.

Good lord, what was the man exactly? The look on his face was calm, however Annie had the feeling he was just as observant when off duty than when on.

"I like the cool breeze." she commented.

Indeed, he agreed to himself, as did he.

"You were thinking."

"Hm?" Annie glanced back at him as he sipped his brandy.

"What were you thinking of?"

Annie smiled sadly to himself, and Howl took note that it must have been something difficult. Before he excused himself for prying, she said, "I was thinking how wonderful it is here and how it could have been if I stayed."

It was bold, but she did not care.

"Do you not have duties at the Campbell house?"

"Duties, aye," she told him, "Lord Campbell is a strict soul, and is of no benefit to her ladyship. Should she ever return there, it will be too soon for my liking."

Her Irish drawl seemed to seep out when she was not paying attention. She was well spoken for a servant girl, and in the presence of the Lady Wisteria, gave off the sense of being well educated and informed. Now, she looked like just any woman he would see on the street. Annie Aldridge interested him with her many facets.

"How long has it been since you have returned?"

"Two years."

Howl cursed in his mind, there were stories told everywhere of the Campbell viscount and his stern ways. To turn away his own flesh and blood was shocking to him.

"They may mail her a telegram on her birthday, or send her pretty things, but it is only an illusion. The Campbells show no more love for their children as a person shows for a trip to the dentist."

"Perhaps it does her well to stay away."

"It should not have too."

Right in that aspect, Howl agreed, "You care for her."

"She is like my younger sister at times, we have known each other for years." Annie said, "I think that perhaps she feels the same way about me."

"You are observant."

Annie looked surprised at his remark, and turned to thank him. As she did so, Howl vaulted over the railing of the two balconies, and grabbed her. They dropped to the floor as a blast from a rifle sounded through the air, scant inches from where Annie had stood.


	6. Chapter 6

_Disclaimer: I do not own Victorian Romance Emma_

* * *

Howl thought the whole situation was ridiculous and absurd. Considering that Lord Reeve had told him earlier that someone had been trying to take a shot at Lady Campbell and himself, Howl thought that whoever was attacking them now must not take great pride in the idea of variety. Glancing up at the hole that was now in the side of the manor, he scowled. They were changing the type of weapons being used, that was just perfect.

A shot rang out once more, and plaster from the wall fell over them. He covered the face of the woman under him, trying to remind himself that she was not as apt to such situations as he was. Annie's head rest on one of his arms to shield her from the floor, and he covered the rest of her body with his to protect her from the glass and wood.

"Miss Aldridge?" he asked, flinched once more as another bullet sounded, "Are you alright?"

She nodded, although she was shaking and terrified. Being who she was, her pride would not allow her to admit that she was scared out of her wits. Howl leaned forward, and she found her face pressed into his neck. Looking around the room, he measured the area out of gunfire, and turned back to her.

"We need to get out of here and check on the mistress along with the other servants. Do what I say and do not ask questions, clear?"

Annie nodded once more.

The rifle was kept in the downstairs broom closet. It was an odd place to keep a firearm, but he had always believed in being prepared. "More towards the doorway, I will follow behind you."

She turned in his arms, and slid along the floor towards the door of her room. Howl was not far behind her, and once she reached up to open the door, Annie pushed it open and let it swing out. She yelped as the sound of a rifle ran out once more. There was a loud curse from Howl behind her, and he stood up, grabbing her wrist and yanking her to her feet.

"Run."

Annie did her best to keep up with him as they rushed down the hallway. He pulled her around the corner, and they stopped once he knew they were out of range. She wrapped her arms around her sides and leaned against the wall.

"Thank the Lord the mistress' room is on the other side of the manor," he said, "Will you go check on her? I need to see to the others."

She would be in shock later, he knew. The way that she was pale, her eyes wide, but she was struggling to put up a strong front in from of him.

"Of course," Annie replied, her voice was oddly faint. Howl seemed to sense something before she did, but his arm instantly came around her before she could slide onto the floor. He held her steadily, looking straight into her eyes.

"Breathe," he said, "It is alright. Focus on my eyes," he took her hand and pressed it to his chest, "Follow my breathing."

Oh, that was a mistake. Annie found herself falling into his eyes, wondering how is was that a man could have such eyes. As the shock of almost being blasted into the other realm began to fade, there was another feeling that was in the back of her mind. His eyes were the color of clear water, so clear that she could have thought they were white.

Howl watched her intently, and when he sure that she was steady on her feet, he tried to let go of her. His arms were still banded around her, and seemed to not want to follow his mind's commands at that moment. Her face was only an inch away.

_Stop gawking, you dolt_, he told himself.

"Mr. Turn?"

She had only been at the Reeve Estate for three days. Howl slowly released her, "Are you alright?"

Annie nodded, "I'm okay."

"Good, go see to Lady Wisteria," he said. With a brisk turn, he rushed down the hallway. She watched him disappear, wondering what it was that had just happened, and the headed towards Wisteria's room.

* * *

Eleanor stared grimly into the mirror as the maid fussed with her hair. She was not looking forward to breakfast with Ernest and the rest of his associates. They were to report to the palace that morning, where Minister Hale would meet with them. Although she was confident in her appearance, Eleanor was nervous. This would be the first time she would be meeting anyone so high in the government, and there was a possibility that she would be meeting Queen Victoria herself face to face.

"Is there anything that you need assistance on, ma'am?" the maid asked.

She looked at her reflection back in the mirror, and then sighed, "No, thank you. Tell Lord Reeve that I shall be down shortly."

"Yes, ma'am."

When the maid quietly shut the door, Eleanor allowed herself a few moments to sink into her own thoughts. She had barely slept last night after the incident in the study, and was beginning to regret striking him. In all over her days, she had never been so outspoken towards someone in her entire life. Ernest Reeve had tested her, frustrated her, and scared her since she had met him in London after so many years ago.

The truth of the situation was that she did not mind at all that she could travel with Ernest, or live with him. It had been so long since she had been able to have someone to rely on besides Annie. Eleanor felt at home in the Reeve Estate, and looked forward towards returning at the end of their business in London. She also looked forward to her talks with Lady Wisteria, and eating breakfast with Ernest in the mornings.

It was the first time since she was young girl that she had started to think of a place as home. The Reeve Estate had begun to seem like a home to her. Since last night, she understood that Ernest Reeve may have more feelings for her than she thought, and it was starting to scare her that maybe she felt the same.

Could it really be that easy? Find a home that she loved, marry a man for love and not for social status, and settle down somewhere for happiness instead of forcing herself into contentment? Her family was dead set on picking her future husband, and Eleanor was wary about letting herself relax to her current situation, only to have it ripped away by her parents.

She picked up her purse, hat, and shawl, and headed downstairs.

* * *

Ernest had barely slept three hours. Minister Hale would give him an odd look for the dark circles under his eyes, and then tease him about working to hard. As he pulled on his top coat, Ernest grumbled to himself and wondered what new adventures the day would have in store for him.

"Where there any messages sent from the estate?" Ernest asked the butler.

"No, sir. No telegrams have arrived."

Ernest frowned, that was different. Usually his grandmother would send him a telegram and it would be waiting for him when he woke up, or Howl would send an update of how activities were progressing at the main house.

"Notify me immediately if any come."

"Yes, sir."

He turned towards the stairs as he heard a door close, and his heart stopped. Eleanor stood at the top of the stairs. Her cheeks were bright red, but he made no sign that he noticed. She made her way down the stairs, and Ernest pulled her coat out of the hands of the maid who stood beside him.

"Did you sleep well, Miss Campbell?" he helped her into her coat. She looked beautiful, and he had to keep himself from loosing himself in her green eyes.

"Fine, thank you," she replied, and was out of the door before he could say anything else. Ernest exchanged a glance with the maid and butler that were standing next to him. Letting out another sigh, he headed down the steps to help Eleanor into the carriage.

* * *

The residential quarters of the palace were simply wonderful. Eleanor found herself gawking at the tapestries and paintings on the walls as she followed Ernest to the meeting room. A guide was leading them down the long corridor, for which she was grateful because the whole building felt like a maze. How did a person live in such a place and not get lost?

As the aid knocked on Minister Hale's door, Eleanor found herself escorted into a large, wood paneled study. It was a wonderful room, just as the rest of the palace was.

"Minister Hale," Ernest said, shaking hands with a man, "I came as soon as I could."

"It is good to see you are well, Ernest." Hale told him as his eyes fell on the petite woman beside the young man. She was a spitting image of her mother in Hale's opinion, there was not much of her father in Eleanor other than his eyes. At least it was only the eyes that Hale prayed Eleanor Campbell had inherited from her father.

"Well enough," Ernest nodded stiffly. Hale caulked an eyebrow at him, knowing well enough there was something wrong with his friend. If anything, Ernest's pale face and the dark circles under his eyes spoke volumes.

Hale frowned, "Where are your manners, boy? You must introduce me to this lovely young lady."

Ernest turned to Eleanor as she curtsied, "This is Eleanor Campbell, daughter of the Viscount Campbell," he recited, although Ernest knew that Hale was familiar with who Eleanor was.

"Ah, Miss Campbell," Hale sighed, "It seems that you have been tied up in our little affair, have you not?"

"It seems so, sir," Eleanor nodded, trying to give him a pleasant smile. Her nerves relaxed slightly, finding that Minister Hale was a very approachable man.

"I apologize," Hale told her sincerely, offering a chair for her. Ernest always preferred to stand, so Hale did not bother with offering him a seat, "You have been placed in much unnecessary danger, my lady."

"I only wish that I could be of more help," Eleanor replied, " Lord Reeve has explained the situation to me, and although I do not believe I have the skills to do any real help, I would like to do what I can."

Hale watched her, and then watched Ernest fidget slightly from where he stood behind Eleanor's seat, "I would not wish to involve you in more danger, Miss Campbell."

She shook her head, "It is my duty is a citizen of this country to lend help in any way I can. Yourself and Lord Reeve should not have to do everything alone."

He could tell that she was serious in her words, and that made him trust her. Eleanor Campbell was a kind person, he read, one that had been building her own image for years without much help. She had been alone most of her life, to fend for herself while doing her best to try to not cause trouble. At a younger age she had been ignorant, spoiled, and naive to the workings of the world. However, the woman that sat in front of him now was no such character.

"Very well."

"Minister," Ernest stepped forward, as Hale expected him too, "You can not honestly believe that Miss Campbell will be alright, the danger-"

"I believe she knows of the risks," Hale silenced Ernest with a look, "I will not insult her by thinking she is foolish."

Reeve instantly scowled at his superior. He knew better than to second guess Hale in front of someone else, but to put Eleanor in further danger had not been the original intent. Opening his mouth to comment, Hale raised his eyes to Ernest once more to interrupt him,

"Will you step into the hall a moment?"

"Sir?" Ernest looked surprised.

"I would like a word with Miss Campbell alone. Please wait outside until you are summoned."

Ernest gaped at him, and then marched out of the study. He was angry, Hale could tell, but that was Ernest's problem. Eleanor sat silently under Hale's gaze, wondering about the reason for Hale's actions.

"I met your father last year during an invitation to a common social event," Hale said, shuffling with a few papers in his desk.

Eleanor flinched slightly at the mention of her father, "I see."

Hale looked up at her, she was concerned about his next reply. He smiled at her, "You do your family a great honor, Miss Campbell."

She smiled, but it was grim and bitter, "I suppose."

He chuckled, "No need to distress, my dear. I well understand that one's family does not always determine personality and agreeableness."

Eleanor stared at him a moment, and then gave him a real smile, "Thank you, sir."

He scribbled a note on a sheet of paper and handed it to her, "Keep this safe with you, Miss Campbell, and do not let Lord Reeve bother you. He has somewhat of a stubborn nature at times, but he is very often driven by his heart, and is a good person by nature."

She was a quiet a moment, reading the paper that he handed her. Standing up from her chair, she curtsied for him once more, "I will take that into consideration," she told him, "Thank you, again."

"No need to thank me. Take care."

* * *

Ernest paced up and down the hallway. He would defiantly give Hale a talk later for dismissing him so abruptly. There was no need for Eleanor to sit through the discussion alone, and she still did not have a complete understanding-

The door opened, and Eleanor stepped out. She frowned the moment her eyes fell on Ernest.

"Well?" he asked.

She handed him the paper, "We are to attend this dinner tomorrow night. The queen herself will be there, as well as the members of parliament. Minister Hale believes that one of them is responsible for the attacks against the throne, as well as the attack against us."

"Bloody hell," Ernest murmured, speaking in the same whispered tone as she was. He had begun to worry that one of the government officials was involved in treason, but had been hesitant to make accusations in case he had been wrong. All of Hale's orders were written on the paper that Eleanor had been given, as well as the directions of how to proceed from their current status, "I'll go out tonight and make some inquires."

"I agree," she said, "I would like to come with."

Ernest's mouth dropped open as they reached the front entry of the palace, the carriage was already waiting outside, "You can not be serious."

"I am always serious, Mr. Reeve."

"You can not come with. Not every part of London is made for a lady."

Eleanor glared at him, "It was not a request."

Ernest sighed, and prayed that everything would be alright. Sitting across from her as they returned to the Reeve residence, he began to wonder how it was that she changed so much from that seventeen year old girl he had met at the beach. The woman sitting in front of him now was poised, graceful, and intelligent.

He was staring at her, and Eleanor blushed, "What is it?"

"Nothing." he looked away.

_Nothing indeed_, Eleanor thought to herself, thinking that she wished Mr. Reeve would take a running leap off the nearest cliff.

* * *

"This is an outrage!" Wisteria roared, "I will not have trespassers on my property! Howl, did you call the authorities? I will not have people blasting holes in my house at the middle of the night!"

"Yes, madame," Howl replied, "The authorities have been notified, but no one was found."

"An outrage, indeed," the elder woman huffed, turning to Annie she patted the maid's hand, "You poor dear, I hope you are alright. It is a wonder that Howl was there to protect you, you are quite the valuable asset to this place."

"I am alright," Annie smiled, embarrassed by Wisteria's praise, "It was nothing."

When Howl left the room without excusing himself, Wisteria almost laughed outright. In all of his years on staff at the Reeve Estate, he had never done such a thing. "Annie, dear, will you bring me the tea?"

"Yes, ma'am."

Wisteria smiled to herself, if Eleanor Campbell decided to stay on with her grandson, Howl would benefit from the arrangement as well. There was no ignoring the interest in his eyes for the new maid. Annie herself was prompt, helpful, and Wisteria doubted she would be no slouch in any situation. Standing in the courtyard, she moved to sit at the table that had been set for her. She refused to hide away inside the house, no Reeve was easily scared.

The holes in the side of the house were very visible from the garden courtyard, and Wisteria frowned at the idea. There had been a real danger there, and she began to wonder if something was going on.

Howl and Annie returned with the afternoon tray. Wisteria flagged Howl's attention, "Annie, will excuse us a moment?"

Annie looked confused, but nodded and hurried off.

"Howl, have you sent your message to Ernest yet?"

"Not yet, ma'am."

"When you do, tell Ernest that everything is alright here."

His eyebrows raised high in the air. As a servant in the Reeve household, he was to abide all of the rules of the Reeve family. He believed the Reeve family an honorable bunch, but this situation was completely new to him.

"You want me to lie, madame?"

"Ernest is stressed enough as it is. He will come rushing back here if he thinks we are in the slightest danger."

"Ma'am-"

"I am old enough to take care of myself, Howl. Send him the message."

Howl sighed, there would be trouble later, "Yes, ma'am."


	7. Chapter 7

_Disclaimer: I do not own Victorian Romance Emma_

* * *

Howl was scratching a quick note on a piece of paper when Annie came into the kitchen. He was still dressed in only the clothes he had been wearing when they were out on the balcony, there hadn't been enough time to clean up after the shooting. He glanced over to her when she walked in, and felt a rush of _something_ hit him.

She was still wearing her nightgown, but Annie had slipped on her ankle boots during her quick run outside to check to see if everyone was alright. In this circumstance, she had seen maintaining a sense of propriety second to making sure everyone was okay. With her disheveled hair and the sleeve of her cap-sleeve sleeping gown falling off her shoulder, she looked like some sort of French-Irish revolutionary.

"You're not actually going to write to Lord Reeve and tell him nothing is wrong, are you?"

"Lord Reeve will be quite angry if I lie to him about the well being of his household," Howl folded the letter into an envelop, "I'm only telling him that I have things under control, and that I will be able to take care of any further occurrences. His business in London is highly important."

Annie made a face as they passed by the window, see Lady Wisteria sitting on the veranda, "Plus, I wouldn't want to be in the poor soul's shoes who happens to anger Lady Wisteria."

"Indeed."

It was something they both agreed on, Lady Wisteria was a force to be reckoned with. Howl turned on a dime and headed out of the front entry towards the carriage. Thorngood was already waiting, and slipped the letter into his pocket.

"Please tell Lord Reeve to stay in London."

Thorngood looked at the young butler and maid, and nodded. He had no doubt that Howl could handle anything that came their way. He cracked the reigns.

"God be with you, boy."

"And you too, Master Thorngood."

They watched the carriage until it disappeared. Howl let out a sigh, and turned to Annie, "Now that has been taken care of, shall I instruct the cook to make us both breakfast?"

Her stomach growled. They had not exactly been able to take a break since early that morning, and Annie just realized how hungry she actually was. She also looked down at her attire, and blushed slightly, pulling the end of her nightgown back over her shoulder, "I should probably get dressed."

"As should I," Howl glanced down at himself, he was unshaven and unkempt. Annie thought that she had never seen a more gorgeous man in her entire life, "I apologize, Miss Aldridge. It is usually not this...dramatic."

"It is not your fault, Mr. Turn," she folded her arms, suddenly feeling self-conscious, "Well, I think I'm...going to go inside."

As she turned, he spoke, "Howl."

"Pardon?" Annie turned.

"Call me Howl."

She stared at him, and then smiled, "Annie."

He nodded, then watched her going back into the house before heaving a sigh, and heading back himself. Before excusing himself to his own room, he retrieved a rifle from the storage room and left it in the broom closet under the stairs.

* * *

Ernest sat in the study, reading the letter. He had a grim look on his face as he gazed back at Thorngood, "Was anyone hurt?"

"No, everyone was fine. Howl told me to assure you that he would be able to take care of everything in your absence."

"That, I have no doubt of," Ernest stood, his traveling cloak ruffled as he moved about the room. He was dressed in formal dinner clothes, and had been ready to leave when Thorngood arrived with the message. Since Eleanor was still preparing, he had gone to the study to read the letter and wait.

Thorngood was giving him an odd look.

"What?" Ernest frowned.

"You look like hell."

Ernest let out a sigh, and sat on the settee, dragging his gloved hands over his face. He was barely sleeping or eating, and Eleanor was still angry with him.

"Sounds like women troubles," Thorngood point out bluntly.

"Women," it was not a statement or a question, "I still have no idea what to do with her, Thorngood. One moment we are getting along swimmingly, and then next she is cursing me to hell."

"And you?"

"I am cursing her because..." Ernest sighed, "...it would be so easy to simply tell her how I feel," he stood and walked to the window. It was starting to rain again, "She's perfect. I could settle down with her, and I would finally have someone to come back to. Her intelligence, her passion in her thoughts...she's perfect for me. I would never grow weary of waking up and seeing her in the morning."

Thorngood frowned.

"I am tired, Thorngood," Ernest rest his head on the window. He felt no shame in confiding in Thorngood, he had been employed by the Reeve family longer than Ernest had been living, "I am tired of always being alone."

With a sigh, Thorngood sat on the edge of the desk, "Your father, God rest him, would tell you to do what you think is right," he said, "Although, I have learned some interesting information that probably even Lady Campbell doesn't know yet."

"What?" Ernest turned.

"The Viscount Campbell has entered in negotiations with the Duke of Brighton for an arranged marriage. I suspect that the announcement will be made in about a week."

Ernest felt his heart freeze, knowing very well that it would be difficult to go against the Viscount Campbell should he decided to betroth Eleanor to another man. The Duke of Brighton was a stern, serious man, much like the Viscount. He was also in his mid-forties.

Eleanor would be packaged, locked in a cage, and married off to a life of silence and repression. She would be taught to behave, to speak only when spoken to, and would be barred from anything save hosting parties, attending book clubs, and bearing children. Everything about her, everything that she was, would be locked away for the rest of her life.

Ernest would never allow that.

He heard voices in the hallway outside the study, and realized that Eleanor had emerged from her room. Clearing his throat, he shook Thorngood's hand, "Thank you, my friend."

Thorngood smiled to himself as Ernest left. The man was so in love with Eleanor that it was painted across his face.

* * *

Opening the doors, Ernest watched her in the front hall.

She was dressed in a beautiful dark-green gown that complimented her eyes and pale skin. Her hair was braided and pinned onto her head, and there were rhinestones clipped into her hair. A pair of diamond earrings dropped from her ears, and a light shade of pink lipstick touched her lips.

"...I don't know what I did with it," Eleanor frowned, "I think I forgot it at the estate."

"It's already late, m'lady. Don't worry," the old maid smiled, "You look beautiful without it."

"I suppose. The necklace did match these earrings though. It would have been nice to have it."

An idea appeared in Ernest's mind, he smiled, "I think I may have a solution to the problem."

The women turned to look at him. He kept himself from reacting to the annoyance that touched Eleanor's eyes. She was still angry with him.

"Come with me, Miss Campbell."

She nodded and followed him into the study. He pulled a key from his pocket, it was kept on the chain with his house and apartment keys. Eleanor watched as he stopped at one of the cabinets. He unlocked it, and opened the wooden door, ruffling through the contents. He starting murmuring to himself, looking from small box to box, and it began to spike her curiosity.

"What is it?" she asked.

He pulled out another black box, glanced at her, and the closed and locked the door. Eleanor stared at him in wonder as he set the box on his desk, opened it, and lifted out the most beautiful diamond necklace she had ever seen.

The chain was silver, like the metal of her earrings, and cascaded into a few tiers of sparkling diamonds. She had to prevent herself from taking a step back in awe as he clipped the necklace around her neck. It seemed to flow over her neck and shoulders, reaching lower over her collar bone, like water. Eleanor looked up at him in surprise, his gloved fingers still holding the necklace.

"This was one of my mother's favorites, she would have liked to see you wear it," Ernest then touched the side of her cheek, loving the look of her green eyes.

"I couldn't-"

"I am not good with words," he said, "I hide myself away from the world and sometimes I forget how I'm supposed to act around people. From what I said, I believe you misunderstood my meaning."

Eleanor could not tear her eyes away from him.

"I did not apologize to you out of regret, I would never regret kissing you," he said, "I apologized because I was afraid I was taking advantage of you."

She gasped, "I-"

He leaned forward and brushed his lips over hers. It was either that or telling her the entire truth, that he loved her and it would be painful when she finally left. Her eyes drifted closed as he continued to lightly kiss her, opening slightly when he stopped.

The bell rang, telling them that the coach had arrived.

"We will talk later," Ernest smiled at her, "What do you say, Miss Campbell? Will you forgive a foolish man like myself?"

A smiled spread across her face, and to his surprise she reached up tentatively, and touched a hand to his face. Eleanor brushed a piece of hair behind his ear, it had fallen in front of his eyes.

"There is nothing to apologize for," she murmured, "I have been foolish as well."

Ernest turned his cheek slightly into her hand, and then brought her hand down to the crook of his elbow. Still smiling to himself, he lead her from the room, and laughed out loud at the maid's delightful exclamation of the necklace around Eleanor's neck.

He had less than a week for Eleanor to fall in love with him, or he would loose her forever.

* * *

The palace was adorned with beautiful decorations from all over the world. Eleanor clung tightly to Ernest's arm as she walked through the main hall, and tried not to gape. There was a full orchestra assembled in the ballroom, the finest foods from England, and people from countries that she had never even heard about except looking at a map. While Ernest was still smiling, he leaned over to Eleanor.

"There will be a lot of people here tonight, a lot of upper-class elites," Ernest asked, "Will this be a problem for you? Since you are with me without a chaperon."

Eleanor shook her head, "As far as my parent's are concerned, I don't exist, and my sister will not mind. It would actually not surprise me if she encouraged us."

She knew that her father would be furious if he learned that she was at a social event without a chaperon, but he would never make a scene in front of the gentry. Eleanor knew that if she told Ernest, he would worry, and there was already enough on his mind. Personally, Eleanor no longer cared what her parents thought of her.

Ernest raised a hand to grip hers encouragingly, and Eleanor couldn't stop herself from smiling back.

"Enjoy yourself, Miss Campbell. Although this is a mission, there is nothing wrong with having a little fun."

She laughed, "Of course not."

Minister Hale moved towards them, having spotted them the moment they entered the room. He flanked Ernest on the other side, "Good evening, Lord Reeve, Lady Campbell."

Eleanor smiled, and Ernest nodded, "Good evening, sir."

"All of the Ministers are here, Ernest, watch your back," Hale replied.

Ernest smiled, and nodded, he then turned to Eleanor, "Would you like to dance with me, Miss Campbell?"

She nodded and followed him to the dance floor, "So, who are the people that we're supposed to be keeping an eye out for?"

"The four ministers," Ernest gripped her hand and waist lightly and began to waltz, "Minister Thomas Hale, whom you already know. There's also Minister Colin Aver, Minister Gram Blake, and Minister Stephan Porter. From the evidence that we have, we suspect that one of them is either the contact for the underground, or they are personally trying to try for Queen Victoria's life."

"How can they get away with all of this?" Eleanor replied, "Wouldn't someone be able to discover what they are up to?"

"One would think," Ernest turned her to the music, "But the four ministers are known for being some of the most intelligent and politically savvy men in England. To go against them takes a lot more than skill."

"How do you know so much about this?"

Ernest was quiet a moment, "My father, when he was alive, was a minister."

She looked up at him, and there was no mistaking the sorrow in his eyes. Eleanor gave him a friendly smile, and squeezed his hand. Opening her mouth to try and say something encouraging, there was a tap on her shoulder.

They stopped dancing, and she found herself staring into the eyes of Minister Aver.

"Lord Reeve, may I steal this lovely lady for a dance?" Aver smiled, "Her father and I are old friends."

Ernest looked at her, staring into her eyes. She nodded, _I'll be fine. Let me do something to help you._

"Of course," Ernest gave her hand over to the elder man, "I'll find us something to eat, Miss Campbell."

"Thank you," she nodded, watching him disappear into the crowd. Minister Aver took her hands, and began a graceful waltz. For a middle-aged man, he was very handsome. His hair was peppered with gray, but his blond hair matched well with his blue eyes. As they danced, she felt strange staring into his eyes, like there was something in them that caused her to shiver.

Who was this man?

"I have not seen you in a long time, Lady Campbell. I believe you were eight years old at the time."

"Forgive me, sir, I only vaguely remember," Eleanor smiled.

"No apologies," he chuckled, "Please accept my condolences on the termination of her engagement with William Jones."

"It is in the past. Mr. Jones and I have long since accepted that we were engaged more out of duty than how we really thought of each other."

"I see," Aver leaned towards her, "Besides, I appears that Lord Reeve has taken an interest in you."

She blushed.

"Do not worry, Miss Campbell, I will not tell your father," Aver smiled, "He does not necessarily need to know that you have been traveling around London with young Lord Reeve _without_ a chaperon, does he?"

Eleanor's eyes grew wide, and she shook her head, trying her best not to appeared afraid.

"Besides, the rumor says that the Duke of Brighton will be accepting your hand in marriage."

"This is true," she replied, "There have been negotiations."

"After the first incident," Aver gracefully turned her to the music as Ernest had done, "Your family will be ruined if another engagement falls through."

"What do you want?"

He was impressed that she was able to make such a forceful statement without changing her expression. She was much more observant and brave than he gave her credit, nothing like the timid, silent girl that had once lived at the Campbell house. Aver understood why Reeve was so entranced with her, she was beautiful as well as intelligent. Such skills would be wasted on a man like Brighton, but she was too dangerous to the operation let wander free.

"Tell why Lord Reeve is so interested in the ministers."

"I do not know what you are talking about."

Aver grinned, pulling her closer as the music began to change into a quick waltz, "If you do not tell me, I can not guarantee your safety."

"I would rather die than compromise Lord Reeve's well being," Eleanor snapped back at him, "If you want to kill me for that, I will not stop you."

_It's him,_ she thought, _Aver is the one._

With that, she stepped away from him, and curtsied low. There was a rage burning in his eyes, but he hid it well, and instead bowed to her as she turned away. The moment Eleanor turned, she felt as if a cold breeze blew over her, knowing that she might have just signed her own death.


	8. Chapter 8

_a/n: Hi everyone! Thank you for being so patient with me. Part of the reason why it's taken so long for me to update was because I've had serious writers block lately. Hopefully I'll be able to finish the story soon. :D Thank you for reading!_

_Disclaimer: I do not own Victorian Romance Emma_

* * *

Eleanor returned to Ernest's side, and decided to wait until they left the social before mentioning anything to him. It would attract too much attention to anyone else who may have been an enemy, and Ernest seemed to have an inkling of what she was thinking from the look in her eyes.

When they finally left the hall, he pulled her cloak over her shoulders. It was early enough in which most of the crowd was still present, but late enough to not gather suspicion. Ernest lead her out of the hall, and didn't speak to her until they were in the carriage. By that point, her hands were shaking. Ernest felt her cold fingers, and began to rub them in between his own palms. Eleanor didn't think that was the reason why she was shaking.

There were tears in her eyes.

"Miss Campbell?" Ernest whispered to her as they headed back to the apartment, "What happened? What did he say to you?"

Aver would surely go and tell her father everything that was going on, and her family would be in London to collect her without another word. She would be dragged back home and married off to Duke of Brighton and no one would care whether she liked it or not. Her mother simply did whatever her father said, and her father didn't give a damn about anyone but himself.

She wouldn't tell Ernest about the part where Aver threatened her life. He already worried about enough without the added burden of worrying about her.

"Aver knows about you, us. It won't be long before he spreads the word that I'm staying with you." she said, "He's the one, Mr. Reeve. He's the traitor. "

Ernest swore, and Eleanor didn't even care. She was on a clock now, it was only a matter of time until she would be forced to leave his side. Ernest would be alone again, fighting for the country against horrible people all by himself. She wanted to stay with him, to fight with him, to take care of him, and to be there when he came home.

A terrifying thought suddenly dawned on her.

She looked up at Ernest, who was now pressing her hands to the side of his face. His cheeks were warm. There was such a look of worry and concern in his face that she wanted to cry. It was so plain on his face in what he felt for her, it was so obvious that he was in love with her. This amazing, intelligent, wonderful man in front of her loved _her_.

A tear fell down her cheek.

"He said..." she whispered, "...the Duke of Brighton has accepted my family's offer for an arranged marriage. Once he tells my father about what I've been doing, Father will come to get me and take me back home."

She felt like she was going to be sick, watching the pain fill his eyes.

Ernest looked away from her, "I see."

He released her hands and eased into the bench beside her. They were silent for the rest of the ride. It only gave Eleanor the chance to come up with three conclusions in her mind. One, she would rather die than marry the Duke of Brighton. Two, she didn't care if her family disowned her because they didn't love her anyway. With the exception of Monica, who would adore Eleanor no matter what, no one in the Campbell family cared about her well-being.

And three, she was in love with Ernest Reeve.

* * *

Ernest was quiet as he helped her out of the carriage. The maid was waiting at the front door to help them with their coats, and took Eleanor upstairs for a bath. He watched Eleanor disappear into the bathroom, and heaved a deep sigh. There was nothing that he could do now, he couldn't expect her to give up her whole family for him.

As far as he was concerned, there was no way he was going to let her know about his feelings. It would only upset her, and it would make it more difficult for him to bare parting with her.

Letting himself into his office, Ernest wrote a letter to Hale. He was half-tempted to jump back on the coach and deliver it himself, but didn't feel comfortable leaving Eleanor alone in the house with so few staff present. If Aver were to send someone to attack here, Ernest would be unable to protect her. It would be best to lay low until Hale sent them further orders, especially now that Aver seemed to have pegged Ernest as investigating all of the ministers.

After sealing the envelope, he left the study to find that Eleanor was handing a letter to the doorman.

"Miss Campbell?" he frowned.

She smiled, "Just some instructions for Annie. She's more of a friend than a maid, and I wanted to make sure she's alright."

He nodded, and handed his letter to the doorman as well. For some reason, she seemed strangely happy and relaxed, when moments ago she was upset. Ernest couldn't help but smile himself, "Are you alright?"

Eleanor did something the surprised him. She raised a hand, and touched his chin. Ernest froze as she rose and kissed the right side of his cheek.

"You know," she smiled, her cheeks were red, "You are, undoubtedly, the most wonderful man I have ever met."

_What was going on?_ He was starting to think something was wrong, "Are you alright, Miss Campbell?"

She nodded, "Good night, Mr. Reeve."

He watched her disappear up the stairs, and Ernest had an odd feeling something was going on had happened. Eleanor was acting strangely, and he had no idea what to say about her strange behavior. For most of the trip, she had been treating him like a neighbor or associate, and now...he didn't know what.

Ernest sighed, and retired to his room for the evening.

* * *

It had been the most difficult letter she had ever written in her entire life. Eleanor sat in the bathtub, the water touching her chin, thinking about the words that would most likely decide her fate.

_Dear Annie,_

_I hope everything is alright, and I hope everything is going well at the Reeve estate. _

_For matters that have suddenly become out of my control, I feel the need to write this letter to you. In the years since I have left home, you have become more than just my maid. I consider you my closet friend, one that I know I can confide in._

Eleanor waited for the maid to leave her clothes on the other side of the screen before getting out of the tub. She dried herself off after ordering her maid to retire for the night, and slipped into a clean shift. Moving back to her room, she sat at the vanity, and began to brush her hair dry.

_It appears that my family is dead set on marrying me off to the Duke of Brighton. I know that this is something my father has done in order to settle some of the family debts, and to expand the business. I fear, however, that if I were to marry the duke it would mean the figurative end of my life._

_I need more, Annie, than hosting parties and having children. After everything I have experienced in my years of freedom, I have learned that I have a curious and adventurous soul. I want to learn new things about the world, and feel free to explore what I will._

She set the brush down on the vanity, and stared at herself in the mirror. Her long blond hair was grown well past her waist, and hung loosely about her shoulders. Eleanor thought about the choice she was about to make, and the possible consequences that she would have from that decision.

There was part of her that knew it would be difficult, but she knew she wouldn't have any regrets.

_I am in love with Lord Reeve, and I will do everything I can to remain with him. Although he has not said directly, I know he has the same feelings for me, and does not express them in fear of anger from my family. But I do not care about my family's anger. Besides Monica, who I am sure will love me unconditionally, the Campbell family has never once truly cared about me._

_It is not long before my father will send for me, and I have no intention of returning. This may bring you some hardship if my family were you discharge you, but I promise, I will do everything in my power to protect you. If I am disowned, I will do whatever if I must to see to my well-being as well as your own. It would be difficult, but at least I would live happy and without regret._

_No matter what your decision is I would not hold it against you, and I wish you the best of luck. I will always think of you as my closest friend. _

_Eleanor_

She had signed only her first name, because she didn't like to think that there was any sort of class separating Annie and herself. It would take two days for a reply, and in that time, Eleanor wouldn't worry about it.

Raising from the vanity, she blew the candle out, and went to the door of her room. Stepping barefoot into the hallway, she closed the door quietly behind her. Her feet padded over the wood floor and the rug, listening to the quiet sounds that filled the apartment, before she stopped in front of Ernest's door. There was still a flicker of candlelight that reach underneath his door.

With a deep breath, she pushed the door open.

* * *

Ernest stood in the middle of the room, and gasped as Eleanor stepped in without waiting for a response. She closed the door, and leaned against the back of it. He was sitting on the edge of his bed, dressed in nothing but a pair of breeches and a white shirt, preparing to go to bed. His hair was mussed from washing it in the basin. His feet were bare.

He looked glorious.

"Miss-"

"I love you."

She had a whole slew of things she had wanted to say, but none of it mattered. All that mattered was they only had one night at the most, and that was all before reality returned. The moment she spoke the words, he stood up quickly, a look of shock on his face.

"Miss Campbell, it's late-"

"Stop it," she snapped.

"I-" he stopped, "I do not think this is wise. You have had an upsetting day."

"Do not let yourself suffer, Ernest," she whispered, "I suffer too. You do not have to be alone anymore."

He stared at her, suddenly silent.

Eleanor looked away, unable to concentrate while looking at his eyes, "I...I am well aware that any relationship between the two of us could ruin your family status, and for that, I will understand if you do not wish to pursue it. Since my father has made it clear that I do not have any use besides breeding heirs, I do not care if I am disowned or ruined. But, I can not let my father marry me off to someone else when the man I am in love with is standing in front of me."

Ernest opened his mouth to answer, but couldn't get the words out.

"Ernest, please tell me what you are thinking," tears gathered in her eyes.

The silence roared around them. Her vision was blurred as she blinked to clear the tears, her heartbeat froze in her chest. Had she read him wrong? Did he not have the same feelings for her? Eleanor didn't know what she would do if he didn't-

Ernest suddenly shook his head, and rushed towards her. She gasped as he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her towards him. He couldn't take it anymore, there was only so much he could handle before it was too much. His hands roamed over her, his fingers tunneled into her hair to pulled her face back.

"I do not care about family status. If I have you with me, it wouldn't matter," he whispered, "Oh god, I love you so much, Eleanor."

He parted her lips, and kissed her.


	9. Chapter 9

_Disclaimer: I do not own Victorian Romance Emma_

* * *

"I do not care about family status. If I have you with me, it wouldn't matter," he whispered, "Oh god, I love you so much, Eleanor."

He parted her lips, and kissed her.

She was ready for it this time, for the feeling that filled her mind every time he touched her. One of his hands remained buried in her hair, the other wrapped around her waist. He could almost feel her skin beneath the thin fabric. Tasting her briefly, he left her mouth, his lips traveling over her jawline. Eleanor tipped her head to the side so he could nip at the flesh on her throat. Brushing her hair aside, he felt her hands curl into his shirt as Ernest touched his tongue to the vein in her neck.

"Are you sure about this?" he whispered, "If we go through this, I will never let you go. I will chase you to the ends of the earth if you try to leave me."

"I will never leave you."

"It will hurt," he said, a hint of worry in his own voice, "You are so fragile, Eleanor, and I-"

"You...what?" she murmured. Whatever his lips were doing to her neck, it was mucking up her thoughts.

"I want you," he replied, "More than just this. I love you, I want to spend the rest of my life with you."

She gasped, and her eyes grew wide as he looked back at her. _Did he just_...

"Ernest."

He grasped her hands in his own, lead her to the bedside, and sat her down. She watched as he sunk to his knees on the floor in front of her, "I kept my feelings to myself, only because I did not think you felt the same way. Now that I know you do, I do not care about anything else," he pressed her hands to his lips, and then to his cheek, "Eleanor Campbell, will you marry me?"

The smile that spread across her face suddenly made everything worth it. The injuries, the years of loneliness, all of the hard work...when she grinned and starting laughing it was all worth it.

"I thought you would never ask," she grinned, tears slid down her face.

He sat up on his knees, making them the same height, and pressed his lips to hers. She wrapped her arms around his neck, letting him take over. Ernest scooped her up into his arms, and lay her on the pillows, settling himself over her. Her blond hair spread over the linen like yellow waves.

While he was staring, she raised a tentative hand, and brushed it over his cheek. His eyes sunk closed as she gently pressed a kiss to the corner of his lips, brushing them over his cheek, stopped on his neck much in the manner that he had done to her. She didn't want to him to think she was afraid of him. Nervous, yes, but not afraid. Her other hand inched under the white shirt, and brushed over his skin.

"Eleanor," he murmured in her ear, "My strength will only last so long."

There was an endearing smirk that tugged at the edge of her lips, "Good."

He kissed her once more, and it was different than the ones. It was hurried and rash, and he dove into her mouth, hearing a soft moan escape her lips as his fingers traveled down her sides. Her shift was trapped around her legs, and he tugged on the hem so it bunched around her waist. She shivered as he touched the outside of her thigh, traveling down to slip his hand underneath her knee.

He couldn't stand it anymore, he wanted her more than he had wanted anything in his life. She froze as he reached down to unbutton his pants. Her hands absently banded around his back, still unsure of what she was bracing herself for.

"I need to hear it again," he whispered harshly in her ear, "I love you, Eleanor, will you marry me? Will you live with me, travel with me, share my adventures, even with all the danger and conflict in my life? Have my children, and share your life with me as I will swear to share everything that I am with you?"

"Yes," she said, "To everything, yes."

She felt him pull inside her, holding himself over her in effort to give her time to adjust. He heard her make a sharp intake of breath, burying her face in his shoulder, her fingers bunching in the shirt over his back. Tears stung her eyes, but she calmed as he began to whisper in her ear. It was unintelligible, nonsensical things, but it helped.

His pulse roared in his ears, and when he felt her relax slightly, he began to move. One of his hands slipped over her waist to hold her in place, his own hips rocked slowly against hers. She felt wonderful, but he couldn't seem to form the words to tell her. A bead of sweat dropped off his nose, and landed on her cheek. Freeing his hands, he framed her face between them, and pressed a kiss to her lips.

Opening his eyes, he stared directly into hers, and remained staring as they both fell.

* * *

Eleanor finally let her eyes open. She wasn't quite sure how long they had been laying with their eyes closed. Ernest had buried his face into her shoulder, and his weight pressed her into the bed. For some reason, she liked it, and wrapped her arms more tightly around him. She had pulled his shirt up so it was caught around his shoulders, his bare back exposed to her touch. He was covered with corded muscle, and Eleanor couldn't stop herself from absently trailing her fingers down his back.

Her shift was pulled up to her waist, his pants were around his knees, and his dark hair was sticking in every which direction. It made her smile thinking that her hair probably looked worse. She was a little sore, but nothing she couldn't deal with.

All in all, she felt amazing.

Ernest grunted when she touched his hair, "Give me a minute," his voice was muffled in the fabric of her nightgown, "My mind will return shortly."

She sputtered into giggles, pulling a smile out of Ernest. He tucked his arms around her, and rolled over so he wouldn't crush her. Eleanor raised a hand and touched the tip of his nose, and then kissed it.

"I love you," she said. His hands wiggled the nightgown the rest of the way off her, and the he reached over to pull his shirt off. Kicking his pants over the edge of the bed, Ernest pulled the cover over them, and tucked her into the crook of his arm.

"I love you too, my dear," he buried his face in her hair. He could get used to this. She seemed to fit perfectly against him, like she was made for him and him alone, "Now, get some rest. There is much we need to do tomorrow."

She smiled, and then he watched her fall asleep on his shoulder. Ernest finally drifted off into the first nightmare-free sleep that he had in months.

* * *

He awoke to the smell of smoke and fire.

Ernest jerked awake, the covers falling to his waist. Eleanor stirred slightly, her eyes opening as he slid out of bed to pull on his breeches. Sitting up, she tucked the sheets around her, pushing the hair out of her face.

"Ernest?" she murmured, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. The air smelled funny, like it was stifling, "What's wrong?"

He walked up to the door of his room, and lightly tapped the doorknob. Eleanor heard him swear out loud.

"What?" she was suddenly wide awake, reaching around for her nightgown. Ernest found it bunched on the floor, and pulled it over her head, "What is it?" she asked again at the horrified look on his face.

"We have to get out now," he said, reaching over to the closet, pulling on his black boots. Pulling out his topcoat, he pulled it on after tugging his white shirt over his head, "We have to hurry," he pulled out a bag, and began scooping papers out of his desk and dumping them in a satchel. Bending over, thanking God that he had moved his valuables to his room, he dumped a small locked box into the bag along with the papers.

She went over to the door.

"Don't touch it!" he snapped.

The smoke edged underneath the door, Eleanor gasped, "The apartment-"

"Here," he pulled another out of his old topcoats out of his closet, "Was there anything in your room that you can't loose?"

Eleanor thought a moment, but couldn't honestly think of anything, "Not really. Everything that was truly valuable was left at your estate."

"Good," he said, dumping the coat on his bed. Smoke continued to flood the room, and he pulled the top off a trunk at the base of the bed. He had one of his mother's old dresses in there. Pulling out the plum velvet gown, he passed it to her along with a shift, "I hope you don't mind wearing one of my mother's dresses."

She shook her head, pulling off her nightgown and replacing it with the shift. The dress was gorgeous, and slightly out of date with the current fashion style, but elegant. It was slightly big on her, and she had to wrap a sash around her waist a few times while Ernest pulled an old pair of shoes out of the trunk. He pulled the strap of the satchel over his shoulder, and then tugged the extra top coat over her arms.

Eleanor pulled out an extra ribbon and tied her hair back, "Ernest-"

He grabbed the collar of the coat and roughly kissed her. There was a creek of wood as the flames bit at the other side of the door.

"Whatever you do, don't let go of my hand," Ernest told her, "Just hold on as tight."

She nodded. He raised a pistol, and shot the doorknob. With her hand grasped tightly in his, Ernest kicked the door open, and pulled her into the flame-filled hall.

* * *

Eleanor covered her mouth with her hand as she ran through the smoke. She could distinctly hear the sounds of collapsing wood in the background, and ran after Ernest as he navigated through the hallways. Fire snaked its way through the halls, as if it was trying to catch both of them while they escaped. It was only when she tripped on a fallen piece of wood did the gunshot miss her.

"Ernest, behind you!" she yelled.

He turned as saw the figure fleeing towards the open window, the shadow of a pistol pointing directly at them. Ernest returned fire, then resumed tugging Eleanor towards the staircase. As long as they could make it to the first floor, they would probably be alright. Another shot vibrated through the air, this time on a deadly course towards Ernest's heart.

She yanked him out of the way, and they both tumbled to the floor. Looking over, Eleanor found herself in front of the study, staring into the lifeless eyes of one of the staff. He was half eaten by the flames, but it was obvious the bullet hole to the head had killed him. She shrieked, and Ernest pulled her to her feet once again.

When he reached the bottom of the stairs, the front door was already blocked by burning debris. Ernest pulled her down another hallway towards the kitchen.

Someone had obviously tried to kill either himself, Eleanor, or the both of them. He had a feeling, from seeing the man in the study, that the rest of the staff was probably dead as well. Saying a prayer for them, he kicked open the door to the kitchen, raising the pistol in case someone was waiting for them on the other side.

He shot the glass out of the window, "Come on!" he stuck out his arms to her. Helping Eleanor through the window, he waited until she was on the other side before preparing to jump out himself.

The shot took him by surprise. Pain shot through his lower left side, and he turned to see a man looking straight at him with a gun pointing at his forehead. Ernest drew his own gun and shot the man in the heart. Taking a moment to make sure it was clear, he shoved the pistol back into his waistband, and hauled himself out of the window.

Eleanor was sitting on the cool ground. She felt like crying. All of those people were dead, and they were probably dead because someone wanted to hurt herself and Ernest. When Ernest finally emerged from the smoke and fire, he groaned as he pulled himself to his feet

A thought of panic ran through her mind, "Are you okay?"

"Fine," he replied, out of breath. Giving her a hand up, he lead her to the stables. Horses were still in the stables, crying out in freight from the firestorm next door. He began to unlock the stables, letting each horse run to the outside. The last one, a black stallion called Midnight that was his personal favorite, he pulled a saddle on and began to hook the straps.

"Where are we going to go?" Eleanor asked, "It's too far to the estate."

"It will take some time to get the fire subdued. With the amount of dead, the authorities will think we've died as well," he said, "We need to get away from here for a while, it's the only way to protect ourselves and everyone else. We may even be able to learn more from working in the background."

When Ernest finished with the saddle, he gave Eleanor a leg up first. She straddled the saddle, pulling the skirts aside to give him room. Ernest vaulted up onto the horse behind her, and gripped the reigns.

"Hold on," he said into her ear, and broke out into a run. The left the stables, around the back of the apartment, and disappeared into the night.

* * *

Eleanor had drifted to sleep for a while, leaning against Ernest's chest. When her eyes opened, she rubbed them, trying to clear the sting from the smoke. It was dusk, and Midnight was obediently leading them through the country road. She was suddenly grateful for the man's topcoat that Ernest had yanked on her, it was warm and protected her from the evening air.

"Where are we going?" she asked.

There was no response. He was leaning on her slightly, his arms resting in her lap. Eleanor frowned to herself, had he fallen asleep?

"Ernest?" for some reason, she couldn't stop calling him by his first name. It didn't sound awkward to speak it, as if she had been doing so all her life. Moving slightly, Eleanor smiled, "Are you sleep-"

One of his hands slipped from the reigns in her lap, and dangled weakly at the side of the horse. It was the that she saw the blood underneath his coat, soaked through the white silk of his shirt. Eleanor gasped, "Ernest!"

Nothing.

"Bloody hell!" she swore, not caring about propriety. Grabbing the reigns, she tugged Ernest forward until he leaned completely on her, and looked at their surroundings.

The road was familiar, seeing the forest to the right, and the country surroundings suddenly dawned on her. She knew exactly where they were, and where Ernest had decided to bring them. Gripping the reigns tightly, Eleanor dug her heels into the horse's flank, and raced towards their destination.

_Hold on, my love, just a little further._


	10. Chapter 10

_Disclaimer: I do not own Victorian Romance Emma_

* * *

Lady Wisteria stood at the window, watching the rain pelt the windows. For most of the day, she had been in a pleasant mood. Like some from the heavens was telling her she needed to be happy, but now she only felt a bubbling sense of unrest. She had a bad feeling about something, but she had no idea what it was.

Annie came in with the evening tea, and glanced over at the mistress. The elder woman looked old for a moment, filled with a sense of worry that only made the room tense. Wisteria was usually so energetic that it was difficult to keep up with her, but for the last few hours, she had been very subdued.

"I've brought the tea, my lady," she poured carefully into the china cup, "Do you need anything else?"

"Have any letters from from Ernest or Miss Campbell?"

Annie frowned, "None, my lady. Neither have sent one, but there may be some tomorrow."

She nodded, somehow knowing there wouldn't be any letter, and walked to the chair. Straightening out her skirts before taking the teacup in her hands, she tried to think of something to try and cheer herself up.

"Sit with me for a moment, Annie."

Annie smiled, and took a seat across from Wisteria. She learned in her short time at the manner that when Lady Wisteria asked for something, it was done without complaint.

"May I ask you a question?"

"Of course."

Wisteria leaned closer, "Do you ever get the impression that Ernest is involved in something?"

Annie frowned, "How do you mean, madam?"

"Some sort of conspiracy," she said, then grinned at her own thoughts, "Some sort of adventure wrought with danger."

"Heavens, I hope not," she didn't want to think that Lady Eleanor would potentially be in trouble.

As if reading the young woman's mind, Wisteria smiled, "Don't worry, about that girl. She has spunk. If anyone can keep my Ernest in line, its that girl."

Annie smiled, knowing when they finally departed from the Reeve house that she would miss her evening conversations with Lady Wisteria.

"Well, I need to get back to my duties. Call me if you need anything, m'Lady."

She curtsied and walked to the door.

"Don't worry, Annie," Margaret Reeve smiled, "Eleanor will marry my Ernest and you'll get to stay here," she then smirked, "Perhaps then you'll get to take a crack at our dear Howl, hm?"

Annie blushed, but couldn't help but laugh.

* * *

The rain was cold because it was near winter. It was too warm to snow, so the rain was as chilled as the night air. Since she was sure that the roses would be frosted in the morning, Emma stepped out of the house to cut the last of the yellow roses. They had bloomed late, and it would have been a waste to see them wilt in the night. Slipped a large cloak over her skirts, she stepped gingerly out of the front door and too the side garden. She wore a pristine white blouse with a peach colored dress, black shoes over her feet.

Julia was tending to Lady Aurelia's needs, and William was in the study with Rosaline. She smiled to herself when she thought about her husband and her daughter. William had worried and hummed over her throughout the entire pregnancy, scared to death that something would happen to her. Now that the whole ordeal was done with, he spoiled both Emma and little Rosaline silly. Emma was glad to finally get a little time to herself, although she seemed to miss Rosa even if she was gone for a few moments.

Setting a wicker basket on the ground, she raised a pair of sheers and clipped the first rose. There were about seven or eight that could be placed around the house. The smell was strong and fragrant, and Emma let herself smell the second one before placing it in the basket. She was nervous because William's father was coming to visit tomorrow, and it was the first time she will have seen him in half a year. He tended to only bow and speak very little words to her.

She wanted so badly to impress him. For William's sake.

Emma heard the whine of the horse before the hooves that clacked over the cobblestones on the drive. Turning around, Emma pulled the cloak around her shoulders. The horse stopped a good distance away, she could only make out two figures. One of them easily slid off the horse, but her heart raced as the second one seemed to fall off the horse onto the first person.

Leaving the basket at the front entry, she raced out to the two people.

"Excuse me!" Emma called, not caring that she was getting soaked when the hood fell off her head, "Is everything alright?"

A young blond woman was holding a man in her arms, who look to about the same height and build as William. He was slumped over onto the woman's shoulder, and she was trying her best to hold him up.

"Mrs. Jones."

Emma knew that voice, and gasped, "Miss Campbell."

Eleanor's face was smeared with ash, dirt, and blood from hauling Ernest off the horse. Her blond hair was matted her to head from the rain. It was the first time Eleanor had really seen Emma Jones face to face, and she didn't feel a speck of resentment. This was the woman who had, in the past, made her life quite difficult. Now none of that seemed to matter. She didn't feel anything other than panic and horror for Ernest. Exhaustion was in the back of her mind, but it was not a factor at the moment.

"Emma!" Aurelia leaned out of the doorway. She had seen everything from her green house study, and Julia stood behind her as they tried to stay out of the weather.

"Get William!" Emma called, running forward to support Ernest's other side, "Tell him it's an emergency!"

Eleanor looked up at Emma as they dragged Ernest Reeve towards the house. They would need to talk later, but for now, they would save Ernest first.

* * *

With Will's strength added, they were able to carry Ernest into one of the guest bedrooms. He briefly glanced at Eleanor before she resumed standing at Ernest's beside.

"I'll send for the surgeon," Julia rushed out of the room.

"There's no time," Emma sat at the bedside, ripping the shirt open, "The bullet is still in his side. If it's not removed, he will bleed out."

"How did this happen?" William Jones turned to Eleanor, "What happened to the two of you?"

Eleanor shook her head, tears running down her face. She couldn't even speak, or bring herself to speak.

"I need hot water, and a parring knife from the kitchen," Emma ordered. She didn't know much medicine, but enough to keep Ernest alive until the doctor arrived. There was no telling how long he had been outside in the rain, and the wound needed to be treated and cleaned now. She found herself alone in the room with Eleanor when Will left.

"Are you alright?" Emma asked the other woman.

Eleanor nodded, "Do you think that you can help him, Mrs. Jones?"

"I will do what I can," she said. Then stood, taking Eleanor's hands in her own, "Would you like to sit beside him? If he wakes, I'm sure it will help to have you here," the she smiled, "And, please, call me Emma."

"Emma," then a sad smile pulled on the end of her lips, "Thank you so much."

Walking around the bed, Eleanor crawled next to Ernest, brushing the wet hair out of his eyes. When Julia returned with the basin of water, washcloths, and a clean knife from the kitchen. Emma took the knife, dipped it in the water, and then took a cloth to clean the blood from his side. Will stood at the end of the bed, and Emma gave him a look. He nodded and leaned down to hold Ernest's legs.

The first cut pulled him awake. Eleanor pressed a kiss to his lips and brushed her hands over his face. She was whispering to him, telling him that she loved him, and that they were safe. He had enough strength to tell her that he loved her and he wasn't going to leave her.

A few moments later, he passed out.

* * *

Eleanor walked out into the hallway. The doctor had come to inspect Ernest's injuries, and had given a few instructions about how to care for him. He was resting calmly now, and she finally allowed herself to try and calm down. No one knew where they were, which meant they were safe for the time being.

Emma came out into the hallway, and smiled, "Come with me," she said, taking Eleanor's arm, "I had Julia run a bath for you, and if you are hungry, I am sure there is something that we can make."

She was just tired and felt dirty from the events of the evening. It was strange to think that only five hours ago she was dancing at a ball. She had had that horrid encounter with Aver, and made love with Ernest. Now she was at the Jones' summer home, dressed in a gown that was previously worn by Ernest's mother, and speaking to the woman that Eleanor had hated for years.

There was another guest room that had an attached bath. A clean nightgown was set out, and Eleanor thought the steaming water looked like heaven.

"I think that I'm going to just bathe and go to bed, if that is alright," Eleanor said.

"That's perfectly fine," Emma nodded, "I'll have Julia sent in to take the wet linens when you are finished. Let me know if you need something."

She headed towards the door, and stopped when Eleanor called to her.

"Thank you so much, Emma," she said, "Call me Eleanor."

Emma smiled, and let herself out of the room.

Getting into the tub, Eleanor left all of her dirty clothes on the floor, and closed her eyes. She dunked her whole head in the water, trying to wash all of the dirt out of it. There was a brush and a bar of soup left for her, and she used it to scrub her skin. It wasn't as smooth as the scented soup she was used to, but it left her clean.

She sat in the tub until it was lukewarm and her fingers were pruning. Pulling the towel around herself, she dried off, and dragged the brush through her hair. It was impossibly tangled, and Eleanor wished briefly that Annie was there. When she managed to straighten it out, she braided it to keep it somewhat tame.

The nightgown was cotton, and felt soft. It was heaven to finally be warm and clean again. She listened the sounds in the house, and when she heard nothing, Eleanor pulled a blanket around her and let herself into the hallway.

Everything was dark, except for the light under a door down the hall, which she assumed belonged to Emma and William. A soft singing drifted through the walls, and Eleanor smiled when she realized Emma was singing to a child. It wasn't a surprise to her that Emma and Will had children now, they had been married for a while. Eleanor didn't feel any resentment towards them anymore, feeling that it her past troubles were exactly that. The past.

Someday, she hoped that Ernest and herself would have children. She wouldn't mind as long as it was with him.

She opened the door to his room. He had been cleaned of all the blood and dirt, and new sheets were tucked around him. Eleanor closed the door behind her, and tiptoed through the room. After draping the blanket over him, Eleanor crawled under the covers beside Ernest. She pressed a kiss to his forehead, which was slightly warm from the fever caused by his wounds, and settled her head on the pillow beside his.

There would be questions and explanations tomorrow. But tonight, she was only going to sleep, and thank the heavens that they were both alive.


	11. Chapter 11

_a/n: I do not own Victorian Romance Emma_

* * *

Ernest woke to a strange ceiling.

What had happened? He felt slightly ill and in pain. It wasn't too bad, just enough to be irritating. Fidgeting slightly, he turned his head at the sound of a rustling paper.

"You're awake."

William Jones stared back at him.

"Will?" Ernest frowned, "What the bloody hell are you doing here?"

"Well, you're welcome for taking care of you too. Ungratefull..." William leaned back in the chair, "Especially since you're in my house."

"You're, what?"

William sighed, "What do you remember?"

He leaned back into the pillows, and thought a moment. "There was a fire. I was shot trying to get out. Someone was following me-" he suddenly gasped, "Eleanor. Where's Eleanor? Is she alright? Was she hurt-"

"Woah, there, old friend," William held up a hand, "You're lady is perfectly fine. She was pretty exhausted and a little upset over you, but she seems to be doing well with Emma and the baby."

Ernest frowned, "How long have I been out?"

"Three days."

He sighed. Three wasted day. People probably thought they were dead.

"Speaking of which, there was a massive fire at a London apartment three days ago. Anything going on that you want to tell me about?"

After a moment of silent, Ernest looked at his friend, "I can't tell you anything. I've already put you in danger by coming here. As soon as I can get dressed, I need to be on the next carriage for London. There are many things that need to be done."

"In your condition? I don't think so."

"William-"

"You just broke your fever yesterday, and you're exhausted. There is no way that you can travel that far. Stay here, get well, and then we'll see about what can be done."

Ernest lay there a moment, and then glanced at Will, "I want to see Eleanor."

His friend smiled, "I think I can arrange something."

* * *

They found her in the kitchen with Emma and Rose.

The baby was sitting in a big wrap on the back of Emma's back, which had been a present from Hakim. He was the baby's godfather and tended to spoil the dickens out of Rose whenever he was in town.

Eleanor had her wrists deep in scone dough. They were making the next batch for tea that evening. She had been learning deligently from Emma in the last day or so, since she had needed something to keep her busy. It was either this or fret over Ernest, which wasn't helping him heal faster.

"You're a natural at this, Eleanor," Emma grinned, "You're learning much more quickly than I did."

"Your's still taste better than mine."

They continued to banter, not even noticing at first that William and Ernest were standing in the doorway. That changed when Rose gurgled at seeing her father, and Emma turned with a smile on her face.

"Well, well."

Eleanor almost forgot that her hands were covered in dough. He looked pale and tired, but Ernest was up, and with a crooked smile on his face. He was happy to see her too. The days of waiting seemed like a nothing now, compared to the happiness she felt seeing him again.

"We've just made some scones. Are you hungry?" Emma grinned.

Ernest was lowered into a chair at the table, and William sat across from him. The eating nook was not really meant for the house family, but there was no way that William was going to drag him all the way into the dinning room.

While Emma pulled out the rest of the details of late breakfast, Eleanor set the dishes on the table, along with the tea, scones, and some honey and jam. She stood beside Ernest as she poured the tea, smiling brightly at him.

He didn't smile back, but she knew he was relieved. Even though he was recovering, his eyes devoured her, like he wished they didn't have an audience so he could toss her on the table and have his way with her. Remembering the night at the townhouse, she couldn't stop herself from blushing. The memory of his hands on her still burned in her mind.

She blushed.

"Eleanor made those scones, what do you think, Mr. Reeve?" Emma asked.

Ernest took a bite, and then grinned, "They are wonderful."

"Eleanor is a quick study."

"I've always wanted to try cooking, but my father never allowed it. He said that it wasn't a lady's job," she sighed, "But, it always looked so fun."

"You can cook as much as you want at Wisteria House," Ernest told her, "I'm sure the cook would be tickled if you asked for a lesson."

Eleanor blushed.

"You sound pretty friendly there, Reeve," William replied.

"Eleanor is going to marry me."

"Oh?" William stared, "I don't see a ring on her finger."

Ernest looked at her. He still hadn't take his eyes off her, "I plan to fix that when we return to Wisteria House."

She shivered. There was another promise there that was unspoken. Emma had a small smile on her face, and Will grinned.

They hadn't missed it either.

* * *

Annie sat at the table, staring at the letter.

A tear fell down her cheek.

Her hands shook as she read the letter. The notice of the London townhouse burning down had just arraived, right before the letter from Miss Eleanor. Annie had thought it was some sort of reassurance that the girl was alright, it was just the opposite.

Eleanor was planning on doing something for herself for once.

Annie was happy for her, and so thrilled at the fact that Eleanor thought of her as a friend. She was putting herself on the line, but still trying to help Annie out should the worst happen. Was this posted before the fire? Was Miss Eleanor alright?

For some reason, the dowager thought that Ernest was still alive, so chances are Eleanor was fine. Annie couldn't shake the feeling, though, and was worried out of her mind.

What was in the world was going on?

Howl entered the kitchen. He opened his mouth to say something about checking the grounds, and then froze. There were tears streaming down Annie's face, so much that it was smearing the ink on her letter.

"Miss Annie?"

Nothing. She wasn't even paying attention.

"Miss Annie?" he walked over to her, laying a hand on her shoulder, "Are you alright?"

She looked up at him, tears in her eyes, and he simply couldn't stop himself. Pulling her into his arms, he pushed her head against his chest.

He was tall, but so was she. Her head fit neatly under his chin, which was something he wasn't used to. He towered over women, and was even taller than Lord Reeve. She clutched the front of his coat, and cried.

What had he been thinking when he tried to touch her?

There was something about her that he couldn't resist. She was strong and intelligent, and a rock when the situation was dire. She obviously cared about her mistress, like their were friends instead of mistress and maid.

He scooped her up into his arms, and sat in the chair, wrapping his arms around her. She curled into him, resting her head on his shoulder.

They simply sat like that for a while, and he waited for her cried to calm into shaky breathing. The letter in her hands was crushed, but she held onto it like a lifeline.

Like she was holding onto him.

Something had happened in the short time she was there. He felt like he could never let her go.

"Thank you," she whispered, "I needed that."

"What's wrong?" he said, "Has something happened?"

"Miss Eleanor is getting married to Lord Reeve."

"That's wonderful."

"It is, and it isn't."

Howl frowned, "I don't understand."

"Miss Eleanor's family was going to marry her off to the Duke of Brighton. He is very wealthy and powerful, and will bring a lot of prestige to their name, having married a daughter off to a duke."

"He's also old enough to be her grandfather."

"Exactly," Annie replied, "She was going to do it for them. This trip to London was supposed to be her last vaccation before the engagement was official."

Howl was quiet for a moment, and then said, "They will disown her."

"I know. Even though Lord Reeve is a peer of the realm as well, they will be unhappy that Eleanor hasn't done what they wished. They will disown her and she will be shunned in London. The letter she wrote was telling me that she would make sure I was provided for."

He was quiet again. She was starting to learn that Howl was a thinker, not a speaker. He was always thought things out carefully before saying them.

"Eleanor Campbell is a very honorable woman."

"She's the best," Annie said, the sniffed, "I wished it wouldn't be this way."

"It seems that she knows what she's doing. Do you trust her, Annie?"

"I do."

"Then, believe that it will all work out. At the very least," he said, "You can stay here with us."

"Stay here?" she said, "Why?

"Because I want you too."

For a second, Annie stared at him, and thought that he was going mad. What did he mean? She opened her mouth to ask him, and instead it was covered with his mouth.

His hand curved around her neck, and tipped her head back as he kissed her. His tongue slipped into her mouth, tasting her, stroking her own until she melted into his arms. She had never been with a man before, but that didn't mean they intimidated her. Someone like Howl was meant to be appreciated, not shied away from like a schoolgirl.

She twisted in his arms, and straddled his waist.

His breath stopped as she pressed her hands to his face, kissing back as just as much fervor, wanting him to know that she wanted him just as much. That she wasn't afraid of wanting him.

He was the first to pull back, his breath rumbled in his chest.

"Don't go," he whispered.

"I will go where my mistress goes," she told him, "I hope that means we stay here. I don't want to go either."

Howl supposed that was the best he could hope for.

* * *

_a/n: It's been a while since I've update this story :O But I'm going to try and finish it! Thank you to everyone for being so patient. Especially TheSilentReader who sent me a really nice message and I said I was going to update and then DIDN'T because school kicked me in the butt :D_

_I'm not exactly sure how much of this story it left, my original goal was 15 chapters, but I don't know if I'll be at that or going over. We'll have to see!_

_Thank you all!_


End file.
